


5 Times Tony Tried To Take a God On a Date (and The One Time He Succeeded)

by moodymarshmallow



Category: Avengers Academy (Video Game)
Genre: 5 Times, Alcoholic Tony Stark, First Date, First Kiss, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Slow Burn, slight mention of Thor/Wasp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-11-18 03:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11282658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodymarshmallow/pseuds/moodymarshmallow
Summary: While Tony Stark is usually the smartest man in the room, he can also be the most oblivious. That's why it took him six months to realize that Academy's resident God of Mischief was flirting with him. Seriously flirting with him. The question is, now that he knows, what is he going to do about it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Cheesiestart, whose patience and encouragement made this fic possible.

Tony lay on his back in bed, fingers laced behind his head, staring sightless at the skylight above. The New York light pollution ensured that there were no stars for him to look at, just emptiness. Emptiness compounded by the silent penthouse and the California king size bed that had seemed like a great idea in the store. He glanced at the bedside clock for the third time in eight minutes, growing frustrated, though not surprised, by his lack of sleep. He had tried, upon recommendation, to fall asleep by reading a dense textbook on the Skrull/Kree wars, but despite making it through eighty dull pages of six point font he was still awake, with too much on his mind. 

Earlier that week, one of Tony’s reconnaissance drones had crashed into NYPD headquarters. From his diagnostics he could tell that it wasn’t mechanical failure; the drone had swerved to a pigeon and over-corrected its flight path, tumbling straight into the police station. If it had been one of the drones available on the consumer market there would have been no issues, but Tony didn’t build his drones that way, so its tiny fusion reactor blew a wrecking ball sized hole into the historical building. Upon hearing the news, Nick Fury put Avengers Academy on lockdown. All off-campus travel was banned and every student attended a mandatory conduct seminar. As it was Tony’s drone that had caused the damage, he spent half the day getting lectured by the by various security officials, and the other half avoiding dirty looks from students whose planned trips to the city were now indefinitely delayed. 

With travel banned, Club A and the Timeless Archive were the only places to hang out after hours. As such, Club A was packed to capacity when Tony arrived with Janet and Rhodey. Lockdown aside, the mood was high. Sam and Steve were playing pool while Natasha looked on, a bottle of beer in one hand and a pool cue in the other. Following Janet onto the dance floor he saw Amora dancing from one man to another, laughing at the crestfallen faces of abandoned partners. She reached for Tony and he shook his head, a sour taste still in his mouth from the hours spent being talked down to by officials and administration. Before he had a chance to notice, Janet and Rhodey had slipped off into the crowd, absorbed into the bodies and the sound of excitable chatter in voices raised to be heard above the music. 

Knowing Janet and Rhodey as he did, he knew they weren’t trying to get away from him, but the result was the same. He stood alone on the side of the dance floor, beginning to think that slipping out to his workshop was a good idea. 

“A pity you arrived so late, Anthony.” 

Only one person on campus called him Anthony, so he didn’t need to turn to know the voice behind him came from Loki. Instead, he pretended not to have heard, though a smile crossed his lips for the first time that evening.   

“Were you still getting lectured about where and when you can play with your toys?” Loki rested his elbow on Tony’s shoulder and leaned into him. He was close enough that even with the club smelling like cheap beer and sweaty bodies, Tony got a whiff his apple cologne. 

“You never show up early, or on time--always fashionably late, or else you look desperate,” Tony said with a prizewinning smile, pushing Loki’s arm off of his shoulder. “Which is why you’re always here when they open, I assume.” 

Loki clapped his hand to his own chest, looking stricken. “And you call yourself a hero with that attitude.” His eyes were bright under the flashing lights and his faux indignation was replaced quickly by mirth. 

“What does it matter that I showed up late, anyway?” 

“Everyone has a partner,” Loki said, giving Tony a look that clearly said he should have gotten it on his own. “You’re in luck though. Natasha just abandoned me for billiards.” Loki looked back at the pool table, where Loki’s jacket hung next to Natasha’s. He smiled a familiar smile, slightly crooked, slightly coy, and offered Tony his hand. 

Tony nearly took it, his fingers just brushing against Loki’s when a switch flipped in his brain. For a solid thirty seconds he stood frozen, looking past Loki into the middle distance, adding up the amount of times Loki had approached him outside of classes and training exercises, subtracting the times they’d been paired up by teachers, and putting those data points next to a list of other people Loki was frequently around, and why. 

“Are you hitting on me?” Tony snapped to life like a puppet whose master had given the strings an initial tug. 

“I have been for nearly half a year,” Loki said, retracting his offered hand to take the blue, umbrellaed drink from a server who had brought it. “I owe Janet a dollar. I didn’t think you’d catch on for at least another three months.” 

“You were betting on me?” Tony asked as he looked out into the crowd, unable to find diminutive Janet, even in her bright yellow dress. Beside him, Loki sipped his drink calmly. “What was this some kind of ‘see how long Tony Stark can’t catch a hint’ game?” 

“Of course the Trickster God of Mischief and Lies would play games Anthony but no, not this time.” Loki heaved a theatrically dramatic sigh as he set his drink on the nearby counter. With his full attention now on Tony, he leaned in. “Your inability to realize someone is flirting with you is laughable, yes, but I could be amusing myself much more efficiently if all I wanted was a chuckle.” Loki drew closer, breaking the bubble of Tony’s personal space by getting near enough for him to smell the alcohol on his breath. “And that isn’t what I want.” Despite the din, Loki’s voice was pitched low, just loud enough so only Tony could hear. 

“I’m going to have to build some kind of flirtation detector,” Tony said, trying to talk through how rapidly his pulse was pounding. “If I can’t even tell when it’s coming from someone who talks about himself in the third person like a villain in a TV movie, who knows what I’m missing out on!” 

Loki simply continued smiling, amused. 

It took only seconds for Tony to run through the implications of what Loki had said, and the possible outcomes. Six months meant he was invested. Betting with Janet meant she was involved--and would likely not be taking part of it was wholly malicious. But most of all, the hot flush creeping up his neck, making its way to his ears, told him what he really needed to know. 

The hand was no longer offered, but whatever it meant to his reputation or presumed heterosexuality, he wanted to take it. 

Before he could say something clever in response, an insidious voice hissed from the very back of his mind. A voice that constantly tried to convince him that he’d never be good enough. An angry voice. 

His father’s voice. 

_ Did I raise you to be some kind of sissy? _

Tony took a deep breath in and dropped his gaze to the floor, the warmth in his stomach and cheeks going instantly cold. He was certain the walls had begun to close in, and even though it was just Club A, filled with friends and other students, on the safest campus in New York, he wished he had his suit. He wasn’t safe without it. 

“Anthony?”

“I gotta say I’m flattered,” Tony said, swallowing the shakiness and giving Loki his paparazzi smile. “Can’t say I’ve ever had a god interested in me. You know I’m an atheist, right?” 

“And yet I exist.” Loki, having obviously realized Tony was stalling, took his drink again from the bar and extracted the little umbrella before taking a sip. “Funny how that works.” 

Sweat began to bead on the back of Tony’s neck, and the rumbling force of his father’s voice pushed at the inside of his skull. If the walls had been closing in, now the ceiling was dropping and the floor was losing its solidity. Loki’s face changed in a way that suggested he saw Tony’s internal distress, and Tony looked out into the crowd again, desperately searching for a flash of yellow. 

“Yeah, funny,” Tony said. The voice of Howard Stark boomed in Tony’s ears and he closed his eyes. Seeing Loki drink whatever alcoholic concoction was in that glass made his throat feel dry and his mouth water. Tony looked away while searching for something, anything to diffuse the situation, to make Club A the same size it always was rather than feeling like a walk-in closet. “But you can’t really think I trust you after all that’s gone on here--the frost giants alone...” He tried to sound casual, but came off flippant instead. If Loki noticed, and it was likely that he did, he made no indication. 

“I’m hardly responsible for everything. I seem to recall a certain building now in need of renovation.” Tilting the glass to the ceiling, Loki finished his drink and placed it on the bar. “You don’t have to trust me, but your distrust has no bearing on my intentions. You’re a smart man, Anthony. Ask yourself why I would persist.” Loki twirled the paper umbrella between his fingers before tucking it behind Tony’s ear. “You haven’t given me an answer about that dance.” 

“Gotta take a rain check.” Neither Janet nor Rhodey was visible in the mass of dancers and Tony was done. Dancing was no longer appealing, and as much as he wanted a drink he was still in enough control to not break his new record of two years of sobriety. “I’m due to be fashionably late somewhere else.” 

“Of course.” 

Natasha was approaching with three empty beer bottles in her hands. She acknowledged Tony with a professional nod before holding up three fingers to the bartender. 

“If you’re going to play you’d better hurry,” she said to Loki. “Steve’s losing. I think he might flip the table.” 

“Who would want to miss that?” Loki flashed a charming smile that caused Natasha to roll her eyes. “It appears I’m no longer in need of a dance partner.” He shrugged helplessly at Tony. 

“Save that dance for me.” Tony barely registered the words as they came out of his mouth. Sweat poured in thin rivulets between his shoulderblades and down his back, but a glimmer of triumph bloomed in his chest. No matter how loud the phantom voice of his father drummed in his ears, he’d had a minor victory. He left with the umbrella still behind his ear, only noticing it when a breeze nearly took it from him. 

Tony rolled out of bed, pointedly ignoring the tiny paper umbrella sitting on his nightstand as he picked up the shirt he’d thrown onto the floor upon getting back to his penthouse. He tugged it on as he walked barefoot and silent through the hall and down the stairs to the workshop that took up two entire floors. A project sat on each of the workbenches, and when he crossed the threshold into the room, a familiar whir and snap told him that Dum-E was aware of his presence. 

“Not tonight buddy. Just soldering another motherboard.” 

The robotic arm drooped in response as Tony sat, adjusting a jeweler’s magnifying glass over a miniscule circuit board. He picked up the soldering iron only to hold it in midair, hovering above the motherboard. His father was talking again. 

_ Should’ve known you’d turn into some kind of qu-- _

“Thought you would have shut up when you died, but here we are, same old arguments.” Tony put down the soldering iron and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And you’re wrong old man. I’m...” His voice faltered. “I’m straight,” he muttered. 

_ Never should have left you the business. You’re lucky your mother isn’t around to see wha-- _

“God, just shut up!” Tony’s voice was loud in the cavernous workshop. He set his jaw as he pushed the jeweler’s glass away. “Real good job you did there, Dad.” 

The memories were poison. Howard with scotch. Howard yelling. Howard with the belt. Howard drunk at his graduation from boarding school. Howard absent from his acceptance to MIT. His mother crying. 

“I’m not like you,” Tony whispered. In his head, he counted the good things: sobriety, the creation of the Iron Man suit, Janet and Rhodey’s friendship, and, surprisingly, Loki. Loki who encouraged him to skip class to look at memes. Loki who caused more than half of the problems on campus, and got away with most of it. Loki who actually listened. Loki who quite possibly wanted to date him. The self-doubting, self-hating voice that mimicked his father was for a second silent, and he ran the calculations again in his head. Underneath that nervousness in the club there had been genuine, if confused, excitement. As always, the answers were simple. 

He took out his cell phone and got halfway through the sixteen digit unlock code before noticing the clock. It was 2:45 in the morning. He covered his mouth with one hand and dragged it down, ignoring for now the stubble around his goatee. He jammed the phone back into his pocket and readjusted the soldering iron and magnifier. 

He couldn’t. It wasn’t just the time. There were unfamiliar layers of uncertainty, anxiety, and doubt blurring his vision as he tried to focus on the lines of circuitry. But most of all there was that determined force that replayed that night’s events in his mind. The near touch. The umbrella. The sly smile before he left. 

He wanted to. He had to. He couldn’t. Not yet.


	2. Chapter 2

New York City was a hellscape in the summer. While New Yorkers with central air stayed home as long as they could, in the city proper movie theaters and other air conditioned venues enjoyed the most profitable summer in years. Throughout the city, cooling centers opened to offer last resort to those who couldn’t beat the heat as hospitals filled with cases of heatstroke and heat exhaustion. Even at Avengers Academy walking outside from class to class was so miserable that attendance dropped dramatically despite the threat of administrative retaliation. However, despite every building on campus having more than adequate air conditioning, the end of the ban on off-campus travel lured nearly every student into the city, heat notwithstanding.

While students planned trips to the beach and the mountains, Tony Stark stood inside the New Museum of Art and History, dressed simply in slacks and shirt sleeves. The woman at will-call had recognized him, and he had signed the back of a postcard for her while keeping one eye on the floor to ceiling windows that made up the entire front facade of the building. He was in no danger of missing anyone though, as Loki strode into the museum a half an hour after they had agreed to meet.

Seemingly unaffected by the stifling heat, Loki joined Tony where he was now looking at a map of the exhibit for the fifth time. Above them hung a banner boasting the name of the featured exhibit: Norse Lives and Legends.

“Traffic?” Tony asked with a lifted brow. Stepping out of his car at the curb alone had caused him to sweat, but Loki’s brow was dry.

“Just fashionably late.” Loki took off his sunglasses and tucked them into the pocket of his dark green vest, the fine gold stitching glinting when he moved. “Didn’t want to seem desperate.” He winked before lifting his gaze to the banner and chuckling lowly. “Oh, this is going to be a treat.”

Small talk was hardly necessary when they had seen one another in classes the day before, so when Loki made a gesture for Tony to lead on, he did so. He handed off their tickets and they left the opulent lobby for the museum proper, where inside gentle piano music floated from undetectable speakers and soft lighting protected the most vulnerable artifacts from fading.

“I wonder if the curator knows that this is a counterfeit,” Loki mused as he leaned over a glass case to squint at a crude statue of a human figure. “The real one was destroyed ages ago.”

“Oh really?” Tony gave Loki a sidelong glance that was not returned as he bent further. If Loki was not genuinely interested, he was doing a good job of faking it, and Tony took a moment to watch the corners of his lips twitch into a smile.

“My brother took it from the mantle and shattered it on the floor.” He straightened up and turned to Tony, whose gaze snapped down to the artifact again. “Tried to blame me, but...” Loki offered Tony a careless shrug. “His punishment was only more severe for lying. Some things you just ought to leave to the professionals,” he added with an air of smugness.

“Are you going to have a story for everything here?” Tony asked, a small smile playing over his lips as they moved to the next exhibit.

“Only if they evoke such happy memories.” He gripped the wrist of his left arm behind his back and surveyed the museum. “I must say, I was surprised to receive your invitation. Here I thought your decision was made when you left me alone on the dance floor.”

“I ran the numbers again and came to a different conclusion.” Tony stopped in front of an immense shield with an interwoven rope pattern hammered into the metal. “You should be flattered. It’s not every day I admit I was wrong.”

Loki answered him with a chuckle and the beginnings of a grin as he read the plaque next to the exhibit. “Do they have anything real?” Loki nodded towards the label which explained that the shield was an artist's rendering based on the shards of metal pictured on the plaque.

"Museums have a lot of reproductions. They're sort of meant to show people what it would have been like to see it brand new, rather than what it looks like now. Now isn't always as impressive." To illustrate, Tony led Loki to a glass case holding dozens of metal buttons, belt buckles, and toggles from clothing. "These are all real, but nobody comes to a museum to look at them. People want to see the exciting stuff. Helms, swords, you know."

"Armor." Loki's inscrutable expression did not change, though the path of his gaze to Tony's eyes then down to his chest suggested his meaning. "When I went to the Louvre they had real paintings," he said, turning his attention to the small metal objects. "Real sculptures too."

"Well that's the Louvre. It's different."

In silence they walked to the next exhibit, a reproduction of a sword next to a rusted pommel and broken slivers of blade. Tony watched Loki as he surveyed the exhibit with interest, running his fingers absently over the glass display case, nail polish black and perfectly neat. Loki had nice hands, Tony decided, and the thought along with the walk-in freezer chill of the museum sent a small shiver down between his shoulder blades. Loki drummed his fingers and stepped back.

"I didn't know you were an art lover," Loki said as he faced him, the hint of a smile playing over his expressive mouth. "From your suit I had guessed your appreciation for design ended with American muscle cars."

"I'm surprised you know what those are," Tony said, trying not to bristle at the joke about his Iron Man suit. Countless hours had been spent engineering and designing the suit, and while flashy, there was something iconic and heroic about the red and gold--at least he thought there was.

"Apparently there is much we don't know about one another." Loki drew nearer to him and put a hand on his shoulder, bending to get close to his ear. "Isn't it fortunate that we have so much time to learn?" He dropped his hand just as quickly as he had placed it on Tony, feeling the surprised jerk in his muscles when he was touched.

Other patrons, most of whom had only ventured into the museum to enjoy the cool air, filed past Tony and Loki without giving them another glance, though the memory of the woman recognizing him at the front desk formed an anxious ball in Tony's chest. He pretended to study the map of exhibits while Loki stood patiently beside him. It had taken three months for Tony to work up the courage to ignore the phantom voice of his father and ask Loki on a date, and the flutter in his stomach when Loki had strolled into the museum told him he had done the right thing. That didn’t mean it was easy. He stared blankly at the map, silently counted to ten, and wiped the memory of his father from his mind. Folding the map to stuff it into his pocket, Tony gestured for Loki to follow him to a huge glass case full of different kinds of gold coins.

"These are worthless," Loki said matter-of-factly. A patron looked at him curiously, her brow furrowing as if she was trying to place where she had seen him before. He paid her no mind and put his index finger against the glass. "See these? Six would buy you an ale and a loaf of bread, but you'd need at least sixty for a sword or something useful."

"They're gold, so you could sell them for market price. But collectors would probably give you a lot more than market value for them." Tony offered Loki a sly smile. "Times have changed."

Loki said nothing as they examined the coins together and moved on, but as they stopped in front of a large map highlighting locations archeologists had found different items, he glanced around, feigning confusion.

"It's so quiet in here. I feel like there ought to be far more noise. I wonder why?" He cast a sidelong glance at Tony. "You haven't bragged about anything the entire time we've been here. I'm shocked."

"Was just admiring the uh--" Tony paused while trying to let his brain catch up to his mouth, but the rest of the sentence tumbled out as his eyes flicked from Loki's sleek vest to his eyes. "The fine norse artistry." He turned back to the map, the air conditioning the only thing keeping flop sweat from beading on his forehead. "I paid for the restoration of this wing," he said, his voice stronger now as he flashed a self-important smile at Loki. "There was a ribbon cutting ceremony and everything. They were going to put my name on it but I think the plaque was enough."

"What do Midgardians say?" Loki pondered over the map, touching the glass and tracing his fingers across old remembered pathways. "'Your money's no good here'." He removed his hand from the map and instead used it to straighten Tony's collar. A passing patron glanced at them by the map and offered a knowing smile as Loki gazed down into Tony's eyes. "If that was all I was interested in, I could just take it."

"My security is a little better than that," Tony said, a touch of indignant pride providing a cover for the flush rising on his cheeks. "Besides it's all digital. Do they even have computers in Asgard?"

"I've been using your wifi since I arrived. It's much faster than the abysmal campus connection." In one smooth movement Loki let go of Tony's collar and retrieved his cell phone from his pocket, opened the settings, and showed him the saved connection to StarkTowerPrivate. A flash of familiar delighted mischief lit in Loki’s eyes. “But if you invited me in to use your wifi, you could admire the Norse artistry as much as you like.”

"I--” Before Tony could even begin his sentence, Loki's hand was on the small of his back, guiding him to a nearby exhibit while a small group tried to peer around them at the map. Though the museum was near empty despite the heat and the new exhibition, Tony's pulse still jumped anxiously when Loki touched him. Though the part of him still infected with the voice of his dead father wanted him to put distance between himself and Loki, there was no denying the butterflies in his stomach at the touch. He thought of Janet, gushing about the men and women she was interested in, and of Sam's obvious crush on Steve, and instead of walking faster he slowed, letting the gentle pressure of Loki's warm hand guide him. But his hand fell away as they approached a small display case and Loki's arms fell loosely to his sides as he stared, his lips slightly parted in disbelief. Tony opened his mouth to voice his confusion, but Loki interrupted him.

"How in the Nine Realms!?" he hissed sharply under his breath.

Tony looked at the case that had caught his interest, seeing only an unadorned and tarnished ring inside.

"What's so--"

"Andvaranaut!" Loki was still quiet but a hint of noticeable panic had crept into his voice.

"Gesundheit," Tony replied, giving Loki a baffled look.

Loki gritted his teeth and sucked in a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as though he had a headache. "It's a magic ring. A _cursed_ magic ring."

"It's probably a replica like everything else."

"One would think that, and they would be wrong" Loki touched the display case, eyes darting to either side of him as he ran his fingers around the sides of the box, looking for the lock. Tony grabbed his wrist and Loki's face lit up with so much surprise that Tony was easily able to remove his hand from the display.

"So they have a ring. There's a whole section of jewelry over here."

With straining patience, Loki explained "Andvaranaut is supposed to be on the finger of Valkyrie right now. Either she's dead, or she managed to pass it on to someone else." Loki's face fell. "Either way, Odin isn't going to be pleased." For a moment, Loki's suave mask slipped and was replaced by a look of genuine dismay.

"It's under bulletproof glass with cameras everywhere and guards at all the doors." Mimicking Loki's earlier action, Tony faced him and pretended to straighten the pocket square peeking out of his vest pocket. Loki's attention snapped away from the ring and Tony felt the full weight of his gaze. "Whatever it is, it's safe. I can talk to the curator about the aardvark for you, see where they got it from."

In lieu of a laugh, Loki rolled his eyes before giving the display case one last glance. "That would be good."

"Whatever you think of my money, the name attached to it comes in pretty handy," Tony said with a smirk, pleased to finally have something Loki couldn't claim to be more skilled at.

They continued through the exhibits together, past the rest of the jewelry, through a corridor of glass containing fragments of viking ships, and stopped in front of a massive exhibit of axes.

"So how much of that were you making up?" Tony asked as they looked at the wall of weapons together. "The stuff about the coins, the statue," Tony clarified when Loki offered him a puzzled look.

"I'm offended by the implication." Loki lifted his nose into the air. "As if I would lie to--"

The rest of Loki's words were cut off by the earsplitting drone of the fire alarm. The low chatter of the patrons turned quickly into a noisy confusion over whether anyone had smelled smoke, and which of the four exits to take out of the gallery. Loki’s face fell. Leaving Tony’s side he rushed, darting easily around other patrons as he returned the case holding Andvaranaut--a case now open and empty. He was still staring in disbelief when Tony caught up with him again.

“What kind of curse is on that ring?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Loki replied, just as the room plunged into darkness.

Following the emergency lights and the glow of Tony’s arc reactor under his thin summer shirt, they found their way back to the foyer where a large group of patrons crowded around the ticket taker's desk, shouting questions and demanding refunds. Tony stared, unused to seeing this sort of behavior in the type of people who attend museums for fun.

"Anthony." Loki said his name with sudden gravity, and Tony tore his attention away from the shoving match that had begun between a patron and a museum guard to look at him. "Though it pains me to say this, I must find whoever took that ring, and I must do it now."

"Let me call Pepper. I can get Rhodey to bring me my sui--"

"I need to do this. Not you, not Fury, and absolutely not my brother."

"Yeah, I don't think so. Whatever this ring does we're better off if--hey!" Tony realized too late that Loki was done with the conversation and had to jog to catch up with him as he bypassed the crowd and slipped out of the museum. He caught up with him on the sidewalk where they watched a car skid off of the street and into a fire hydrant. The top of the hydrant busted off and a plume of water spurted twenty feet above the car.

"This will keep happening until I get the Andvaranaut," Loki said, almost wearily. "Not how I would have liked our first date to end, but I have to go fetch this ring before Odin finds out it's on Midgard, much less gone."

"Why do I have a feeling there's something you're not telling me?"

"Because there always is and you're more clever than you look." Tony glared up at him and Loki spread his hands in a hopeless gesture. "I stole the ring a long time ago and the previous owner cursed it to rain down destruction and chaos upon anyone who held it."

"So technically, this is your fault," Tony said, turning back to the street at the sound of screeching tires just in time to see a car collide with a streetlamp.

"Technically, New York rather always looks like this." Glass shattered above them and Loki had to step to the side to avoid an old picture tube television falling from one of the high-rises. "The last time this ring was out where anyone could find it, a dragon was involved. Midgard hasn't had one of those in a while, but as amusing as that might be I'd rather not wait and see if it will happen again." Tony opened his mouth to respond, but stopped when Loki took his hand. Loki raised his hand to his lips and brushed them lightly across his knuckles. "I'll make it up to you. You have my word."

With that, Loki was off, barely a blur as he darted through the crowd gathering around the waterspout and crashed cars. Tony stood stock still despite the changing wind sprinkling water from the broken hydrant onto his head. His hand still hovered in the position Loki had left it. Tony was running the numbers again, this time while his heart thudded rapidly in his chest. He lifted his hand to his mouth, but before touching his lips he dropped it to his side and shook his head, butterflies bursting to life in his stomach as he walked to the garage for his car.


	3. Chapter 3

It came as no surprise to anyone--least of all Tony Stark--when Loki was not in class for several days. For Loki, attending classes was a formality; the training and tutoring he had received in Odin's court was enough to make him an expert at nearly everything taught at Avengers Academy. Generally he attended only due to the threat of punishment, or when he was plotting something, so not seeing him in a classroom for a week or more was simply par for the course. It was unusual, however, to not see him anywhere on campus, as he could be found at Club A every other night at the very least. So his absence for an entire week was a mystery to everyone but Tony Stark, who watched the news for outbursts of inexplicable violence and disaster potentially related to a certain stolen magical ring. But after two weeks, the violence died down--by New York's standards--and Loki was still nowhere to be found. Even Natasha, who had been assigned as his roommate in the Maverick Dorms, had heard nothing.

While pouring over crime statistics from the outer boroughs during lunch break, Tony heard a light tap on the glass door leading to the balcony. At first he ignored it, convincing himself that someone had lost a frisbee or something, but the tap was followed by loud, insistent rapping. Tearing himself away from the newsfeeds, he walked to the door to find Janet Van Dyne standing on his balcony, a drink carrier in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. He opened the door for her. 

“This is the third time you’ve missed lunch this week and as your best friend it is my duty to make sure you’re eating properly,” she said as she walked in and handed him the bag. “Peanut butter, bacon, and banana sandwiches, tiny expensive cupcakes, and pixy stix--those are for me.” 

“I’m sure you make your dentist very happy,” Tony said as he took the bag from her. 

“I’ll have you know that I haven’t had a cavity since I was 13. Just the root canal,” She added with a glum pout as she offered him the drink carrier as well. “I also brought bubble tea. Hokkaido Milk for you, 50% sugar as always. It’s the one with the red straw.” 

As years of friendship with Janet had informed Tony that she was an unstoppable force both in battle and in everyday life, he took the drink carrier and bag to the breakfast nook where he sat with them. In the bag, on top of two sandwiches wrapped in plastic, was a small tray of miniature cupcakes, covered with a plastic lid to keep the frosting from sticking to everything. Janet sat across from him, propping her elbows on the table and resting her head in her hands as she looked at him. 

“What?” he asked as he placed the cupcakes in the middle of the table. Though there had been very few reports of unexplained violence in the past four days, he was eager to get back to his newsfeeds. There was just something strange about being on campus without Loki, who had been a student since the Academy’s inception, and it itched at the back of his neck the way ideas for new inventions did. 

“You haven’t been at Club A in a week,” she began, “or the blasting range, or the cheesemonger!” Tony managed a soft chuckle as he took out his sandwich and pushed the bag towards her. “I’m worried about you, Tony. This isn’t like you at all.” 

“I’ve just been working on something.” Tony unwrapped the sandwich which had been both wrapped and made with care. Everything from the bread choice to the carefully applied peanut butter told him that Janet had spent her time on it, and if she hadn’t just told him she was worried, the sandwich would have been proof enough. 

“You’re always working on something, but you usually make time for fun too.” Janet lifted her drink, but before she put the straw in her mouth, she continued. “And you usually show off whatever you’re working on!” 

“That does sound like me,” he said, and took a bite of the sandwich.

“Is it a new suit?” Janet sat back in the chair and took a long drink of her bubble tea. “I thought you said you’d let me help you design the new one.” There was silence while she chewed the tapioca pearls, eyeing Tony suspiciously the whole time. 

“It’s not a new suit. I’ve been making some improvements to the Mark IV though.” It wasn’t a lie. While J.A.R.V.I.S. scanned every news report, tweet, and Instagram post from Manhattan to New Jersey, Tony split his time between the lab and the workshop.

“Well, you’ve missed out on a lot.” Janet pulled out her phone and began scrolling through pictures to show him. “See? Natasha and Cap have been training together in the gym again.” In the photo, Captain America and Natasha were standing on opposite sides of one another, wearing boxing helmets and gloves. He was shirtless, and she was wearing a sports bra and shorts. “Would you look at those abs?”

“His or hers?” 

“Both,” Janet said with a dreamy sigh. “And here, look. Gwen and Kamala taught M.O.D.O.K how to play video games.” A majority of the picture was taken up by the bulk of M.O.D.O.K’s head. His face was plastered with the same wide grin that it had worn since the Scientist Supreme had been locked away for good. He held a controller modified for his tiny hands in the air, triumphant. 

“He looks like he’s having a good time. What are they playing?” The company was more welcome than he’d thought it would be. Janet’s voice was a cheerful reminder that no matter what happened on or off campus, he had a best friend to turn to. 

“ _ Mario Kart _ . He hasn’t lost yet, but I think they’re letting him win because nobody really knows if he’s going to be a sore loser or not.” Janet opened the cupcakes and took one out, biting into one so eagerly that frosting dabbed her nose. Tony stood to bring her napkins from the kitchen, which she took gratefully and wiped off the chocolate frosting. “Oh, and Peter is teaching me how to take pictures with a traditional camera, but I think it’s kind of pointless. I always have my phone.” 

“Sir, there has been an incident that matches your search criteria.”

“Later, J.A.R.V.I.S.. I have a guest.” Tony drummed his fingers on the small table, frowning. He took a drink from his bubble tea, wishing the breakfast nook had the same electronics installed as the kitchen, or that he had checked while getting napkins. 

“As you wish, Sir.” 

“More of what you’re working on?” Janet asked, suspicion growing in her gaze. 

“Kind of,” he admitted. “This is a really great sandwich. I wouldn’t have thought to put bacon on it, but it adds just the right amount of savory--” 

“You’re changing the subject!” She placed the uneaten half of the cupcake on the table and concern overtook the suspicion suffusing her face. “Tony, I’m worried,” she said again. “The last time you were so distant like this was because of your father--” Janet paused when Tony flinched unconsciously at the word. “Because you were having the nightmares again,” she added softly. 

Having entirely lost his appetite, Tony set the half eaten sandwich back onto the plastic wrap. “Howard has nothing to do with this.” The sick chill in his gut suggested otherwise, and for the first time since the interrupted date, Tony’s mind threatened to sink back into the sick, self-hating place where the memory of his father lurked. 

“I’m sorry, Tony. I didn’t mean to bring anything up.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it again?” 

“I really don’t.” Searching for something else to talk about, Tony noticed Janet was wearing a plain band on her ring finger. When she saw him looking, her cheeks colored and she began toying with it. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked. 

“It’s  _ not _ an engagement ring,” Janet insisted, taking a quick peek at the ring before looking back at Tony. “It’s a just a ring. Thor and I sort of decided to make things official the other day, and he gave me this. I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but he’s just so great.” The same dreaminess that had come into her voice when talking about Steve and Natasha’s abs was in her words again. 

Something tugged at Tony’s chest. For the first time since the realization that he was attracted to Loki, the murmuring conflict between opposing sides of his brain threatened to break the silence. It had been all too easy to pretend the museum date wasn’t anything important when he first told her about it, but how Loki’s lips on his knuckles made him feel was anything but simple. 

“It sounds like you really like him.” Tony stared at the sandwich for a moment before wrapping it back up in plastic to save for later. “What’s it like dating an Asgardian?” he asked, having been struck by the idea that they might talk about his dilemma without actually saying the words. Janet opened her mouth to answer, but again J.A.R.V.I.S. interrupted. 

“Sir, another incident has--” 

“J.A.R.V.I.S., please,” Tony said, exasperated. This time the A.I. didn’t answer as Tony turned his attention back to Janet. “You were about to say something.” 

“Oh yeah, it’s actually really strange but also really great!” Exuberance lit her face as she spoke. “It’s weird because he’s like, really old, but doesn’t look like it at all. But it’s only a little weird, you know? He’s a perfect gentleman, and he’s a really good listener, and we went dancing and he’s  _ so strong _ . He kept sweeping me off my feet without--Oh my god!” Janet nearly knocked over her bubble tea as she raised her hands to her mouth to cover it. “I totally forgot to ask you about the date at the museum!” she said, dropping her hands to her lap. “I  _ am _ the worst best friend!” 

The compulsion to tell her about everything, from the insecurity fueled by the remembered voice of his father, to the butterflies in his stomach when Loki kissed his hand, sunk back into his stomach and dissipated. He wasn’t supposed to be scared, but he was. Scared of what she’d think of him. Scared of what he’d think of himself. 

“You’re a great friend,” Tony said firmly. “Who else would go out of their way for me like this?” 

"But it's been over two weeks and I didn't ask! I can't believe myself!" Janet sighed and stuck out her bottom lip. From where it sat on the table, Janet's cell phone started buzzing. Her gaze flickered down at it, then back up at Tony. "It's Thor," she said apologetically as she put it to her ear. After a hello and a few affirmative answers, she hung up and looked back at Tony. Her pout had grown. "He wants to take me to the beach so he can look for the sea monsters he saw on the maps in the library." 

"Don't let me stop you. And don't tell him that there the sea monsters were just there to show unmapped areas." 

"But I need to ask you about your date!" Janet said, even as she stood and put her sandwich back in the bag. "It's not fair for me to just--" 

"It wasn't anything special," he lied as she packed up. "And he complained about everything being inaccurate." 

"Remind me to kick his butt the next time I see him." 

"You haven't seen him?" Tony got to his feet to walk Janet to the door, but she walked back to the balcony instead. Though she had the lunch bag in one hand and what was left of her tea in the other, she gave Tony an awkward hug as he opened the door. 

"Maybe he's in hiding cause he knows I'll kick his butt for being a shitty date for my best friend." 

"I'm sure that's it. Thanks for lunch, Jan." 

On his balcony, Janet shrunk down to her flying height and zipped off, leaving Tony alone again. After she was out of sight, he took one of the cupcakes from the package and returned to the kitchen to check the alerts J.A.R.V.I.S. had notified him of during lunch.

* * *

 

The third floor of Stark Tower was comprised entirely of Tony's workshop. Prototypes and variations of the Iron Man suit lined the wall of the research lab, while the opposite side of the massive room held a half dozen workbenches, all with a different project sitting in various states of completion. Among the tools for shaping and cutting metal was a welding station with canisters of oxygen and massive power sources with arc reactors at the core. At one of these stations Tony stood over a large sheet of curved silver metal, wearing a welding mask to protect himself from the shower of sparks that flew from the torch as he joined a large strip of metal to the curved sheet. 

As soon as Janet left, Tony descended from the penthouse suite to his workshop. He slipped easily into the familiar rhythm of creation. Although programming and hacking came no less naturally than building, having metal in his hands was grounding in a way that nothing else could match. In the shop he was a mechanic, an engineer, and most of all, a master manipulator of metal. Tony was single minded to a fault as he worked, eating nothing after the half sandwich. While hours passed, his phone sat unnoticed on a table in the lab side of the room, and he was oblivious to the sweat soaking through his tank top and the slivers of slag sticking to his bare upper arms. 

"Sir, you have a visitor." The voice of J.A.R.V.I.S. echoed through the workshop, loud enough to be heard over the blaring rock music and the sound of machines humming. Tony cut the power from the torch. 

"Who is it, and what do they want?"

"The visitor in question is a Miss Romanov, and she wishes to speak to you directly." 

Tony frowned and flipped up the welding visor. "Tell her I'm in the middle of something." 

"I did, Sir. She insists. In fact, as we speak, she is looking for another way into the building." There was a clear sense of irritation in the A.I.'s voice, and Tony set the torch down on the table. 

"Fine, send her down to the workshop. And cut the music." 

The room fell silent, and a moment later, Natasha appeared at the sliding glass door, passing through when it automatically opened. Without a second look for the machinery or the suits lining the walls, she addressed Tony. 

“I called you twice.” 

"You do realize that J.A.R.V.I.S. can hear you in here too, right?" Tony asked with the raise of one brow. "So if you were hoping for secrecy..." Trailing off, Tony shrugged. Natasha rolled her eyes, lifted up a small device that looked like a pen, and clicked the top of it. In an instant all of the electricity went out, including the small blinking light that indicated J.A.R.V.I.S. was recording. 

“What the f--” Before he could finish his sentence, Natasha clicked the pen again and the workshop sprang to life again. 

“Master Stark, I am detecting a five second gap in my recorded memo--” 

“It’s fine J.A.R.V.I.S. Just don’t record anything Natasha says for the next ten minutes or so.” Tony yanked the welding mask off of his head and glared at her pointedly. “If you were hoping to get me in a good mood you ruined your chance.” 

“I didn’t come to make small talk,” Natasha said smoothly as she stuck the device into the wrist of her leather jacket. “Loki wants to see you.” 

“What? When did he come back?” Confusion struck him. He hadn’t expected that he would be the first person Loki talked to when he returned, but he’d been hoping a text at the very least. But if he wanted to talk to him, it made no sense to send Natasha. Loki was a lot of things, but he wasn’t the type to send messengers. 

“A week and a half ago,” Natasha said as she pulled out a cell phone, different from the one he’d seen her with last week, to show him a picture of Nick Fury and Loki having what looked like a heated argument inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. 

“That’s impossible.” Tony narrowed his eyes at her. “You told me he--” 

“I’m a  _ spy _ , Tony. I lie for a living.” 

“I don’t under--” 

“I need to make this brief. He likes to think he’s being stealthy about it but I know Fury is keeping his eye on me.” She took the cellphone back from him and stuck it into an interior pocket of her jacket. “Fury and Odin have had Loki locked up in our dorm room for a week and a half, and have threatened me with expulsion or worse if I told anybody.” 

"What the fuck?" In the seconds it took him to react, Tony’s mind raced. If nothing else, this explained why nobody had heard from Loki in the last two weeks. More importantly though, it confirmed widely held suspicions about Fury’s motives in bringing together the Avengers’ school. If the school could be transformed into a prison that could contain a god, then Natasha didn’t sound paranoid anymore. "J.A.R.V.I.S., scan the Maverick dorm. Look for anomalous energy signatures and show me the video feeds." 

Natasha’s eyebrows rose and a smug smirk crossed her face. “I  _ knew _ you could do this! How many cameras can you hack? All of them?” 

"Only the ones I need to hack when Fury is hiding something from me." A holographic screen flickered to life in front of Natasha and Tony, showing a graph on one side and an array of eight video screens arranged in a square. “And I built the digital infrastructure here; of course I can hack it.”

"I have detected an anomalous energy signature on the second floor. It seems to be emanating from room 207,” J.A.R.V.I.S. announced.

"Analyze it." 

"The energy signature appears to be Asgardian in nature." 

"Blow up the shot of the second floor hallway." 

“Do you know how many times you could have saved me a whole day of work?” Natasha asked with one brow raised, a hint of irritability in her voice. 

Tony held up his hand in a gesture that was more dismissive than he meant it to be as he watched the camera sweep the hallway, stopping in front of room 207. "What the fuck are those?" 

Two large figures stood on either side of the door. The video feed was too blurry to distinguish much about them, just that they were comprised of stacked rings of metal, making them resemble the underside of a snake. They were massive, nearly touching the ceiling, and there was an angular plate on top of their heads that was shaped vaguely like a blunted arrowhead. 

"Loki said they're Odin's. Normally used to guard prisoners and valuable items. There’s also a barrier of some kind. Loki says it’s magical, and I’m inclined to believe him since I can get through it just fine, but for him it’s like a brick wall." 

“So nobody’s trying to hide that they’ve turned your dorm room into a prison,” Tony said without looking at Natasha. “Zoom in.” The camera zoomed as far as possible on the face of one of the metallic figures. Tony frowned. 

“They’re trying to hide  _ something _ ,” Natasha said as she joined Tony at the holographic screen. “And I want to know what it is.” 

“Then why are you here?” Tony faced her and the screen winked out of existence. “I mean, I’m not grateful that you passed along a message but I don’t get what’s in it for you.” 

“Loki says Fury has something on Odin, and I can tell he’s not lying.” Natasha set her jaw. “Now that I know Fury’s able to lock someone up on campus without anyone knowing I want to know everything someone like Odin has on him.” 

“Why would he promise you something like that just to tell me he wants to talk to me?” Tony asked, trying to ignore the cold sweat rolling down his spine. 

“That’s what I want to know.” Natasha tilted her head. “He didn’t  _ just _ ask me to come get you. He’s been asking since he showed up.” Under her scrutinizing gaze, Tony felt sweat bead on the back of his neck. 

“Maybe he needs more chemistry tutoring?” 

“For the classes he isn’t attending?” Natasha glanced at her watch, but flicked her eyes back towards Tony immediately. “You know as well as I do that the Academy is only a front for the Avengers Initiative.” 

“There  _ are _ classes,” he said, his mind still racing. Nothing about this made sense. 

“Training,” she said coolly. “So what does he want with you?” 

“How should I know,” Tony said, a little too loudly. “Maybe he wants me to build him something because he thinks I can get him out.” 

Natasha tilted her head for a moment, considering. A brief raise of the eyebrows and a small nod told Tony she thought the argument made sense, and he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. It was one thing to talk to Janet about going on a date with Loki, but he couldn’t be sure Natasha wouldn’t use it for blackmail, even if they  _ were _ friends. 

“Anyway, you need to go,” she said. 

Tony looked down at his tank top, soaked in sweat from the arc reactor to his belly, punctured with tiny holes from getting too close to the torch. Self-conscious anxiety tugged at him. “Now?” 

“Fury is off-campus, and Steve is taking Maria on a tour of the city. She thinks he’s going to spill the dirt on all the students, but what he’s really going to do is talk about the ‘old days’ until her eyes glaze over.” Natasha looked at him with a smile that looked oddly proud. “You have no more than two hours until they return.”

Tony wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm and sighed. “Alright. Thanks for telling me. And thanks for not telling anyone about this: J.A.R.V.I.S., cut the power from the cameras in the Maverick dorm. Make it look like a hardware failure.” 

“Of course, Sir,” was the immediate reply from the AI, and the holographic screen blinked to life again, this time displaying a map of campus with pinpoints of light indicating all of the surveillance cameras. In an instant, the entire Maverick dorm went dark. 

“You are just full of surprises,” said Natasha.

Tony grabbed his phone from the table across the room from the welding station and waved his arm to indicate she should follow him. “If I’m leaving, you’re leaving.” 

“What makes you think I wanted to stay. It smells like a locker room in there.” Natasha wrinkled her nose as they left the workshop together, the lights winking off behind them once the sliding glass door was closed and locked. Outside, Natasha immediately broke away from him, striding towards the Timeless Archives without looking back while Tony headed towards the Maverick dorm. 

* * *

 

For the first time in a decade, Tony Stark was perplexed by a piece of technology. 

The figures outside of room 207 were even more baffling in person. They were at least eight feet tall and completely unmoving, as though they were statues. The overlapping, interlocking plates did resemble a snake's underbelly, but there were rivets and spikes along the shoulders, arms, and legs that appeared to serve no mechanical purpose. With the gauntlet he had grabbed before leaving Stark Tower, he scanned one, puzzling at the energy signature and metallic composition. They were made of something molecularly similar to vibranium, but gave off no energy signature at all. That is, until he tried to touch one. 

Before his fingertips could graze the metal, both robots turned their heads sharply to look at him. He pulled his hand back immediately and they stopped, turning again to face the wall across from the door. His gauntlet recorded terabytes of data from that minute interaction, but that wasn't important right now. Tony looked at the closed door, swallowed once, and turned the knob. There was a flicker of light when he touched the door--the magical barrier Natasha mentioned, he supposed--but despite that flicker, he was able to enter without trouble. 

Tony, acting as academy electrician, mechanic, and information technology specialist, had overseen the construction of the so-called Maverick dorm. The high security dorm, as it was called on all official documentation, had been built with rooms that looked no different than those in any college dorm anywhere in the country. The dorm rooms were drab and ugly, with off-white paint and faux wood flooring, so Tony was taken by surprise at the splendor behind door 207.

The room was split into two disparate halves. Natasha’s side was easy to distinguish. Her tidy desk looked like it came from an Ikea catalogue: the closed macbook was dead center, a notebook with a pen on it to the left, and a small desk lamp to the right. The only thing that didn’t look as though it had come from a pre-packaged “first day at college” kit was a framed picture of her, Sam, Steve, and Bucky holding up a trophy from the last volleyball game. The walls on Natasha’s side of the room were bare, and her bed was made with hospital corners. The only thing out of place was a duffle bag sitting next to the window. Tony suspected it held everything Natasha would need to leave the academy and never come back, making it look like she was never there. 

Loki's side appeared as though it had come from another world entirely. Stretching his wall of the room to the exact center was a dark green rug, with scenes woven in it like tapestry. Animals, some unrecognizable, highlighted in shining gold, romped along the rug, spreading wings, rearing back on hooves, and jutting antlers forward. The edges were familiar Asgardian braid--a motif that was repeated around the room. On every soft surface were sumptuous fabrics, velvets and silks, in colors complimenting the rug. But despite the luxurious fixtures, there was no clutter. Every pillow, every tassel seemed to have been placed in carefully designed fashion. On two walls hung several large paintings depicting scenes of hunts and lively noble court. The other wall, the one by the door and directly behind one of the metallic figures, held only a dart board with five darts jammed into the bullseye. Unlike the dart board at Club A, there were no holes peppering the wall to show missed throws. 

But most decadent, and most important, was Loki lying on his back on his twin sized mattress, reading a book that apparently came from a large stack on the floor near his bed. His back was propped up on fancy pillows, and if his captivity was causing him any distress, it was difficult to see. He wore all black, tight and nondescript, and Tony found himself tracing the long, slender line of Loki's legs from the slight swell of his hip to his ankle. At his ankle he stopped, stunned by what he saw there: Loki was shackled. Tony's heart raced at that realization, and he flicked his gaze up to Loki's hands to see the shackles he had missed on the first glance. While there were no chains holding him, there was no mistaking the silver and bronze cuffs around his wrists and ankles. They had holes for attaching chains, and were etched with some patterns he couldn’t discern from his place in the middle of the room. Heat bloomed deep in the pit of his stomach at that sight, at that implication, and a well-buried desire bubbled up from the back of his mind. In the seconds it had taken him to walk into the room, he had come completely undone. His voice, not just his wit, failed him. Luckily, Loki spoke first. 

“Well, well,” he said, snapping shut the book he had been reading and placing it on the bed next to him, “ _ The Man in the Iron Mask _ comes to visit  _ The Count of Monte Cristo _ .” There was no hiding the amusement in Loki's voice, but his eyes only briefly fixed on Tony's face for a reaction. His gaze dropped to Tony's neck, where it lingered too long before trailing downwards. 

“How long have you been waiting to use that one?” Tony asked with a weak grin. Feeling the weight of Loki’s gaze too heavily, Tony rubbed the back of his sweaty neck and turned towards the door. “What's with the Terminator and Robocop outside?” He asked, thankful for the distraction. 

Loki rolled his eyes. “They're called Destroyers, though they are on a pale imitation of the real thing, which I assume still guards Odin’s hoard. They follow the All-Father’s orders alone, and currently they've been tasked with keeping me in this room.” There was a hard edge in Loki's voice, suggesting his sardonic expression hid real anger. 

“But why?” Tony looked for somewhere to sit and found the chair for Loki's untouched desk, which unlike Natasha’s, seemed have come from an antiques store. He spun the chair around to face Loki and sat. 

“The Andvaranaut,” Loki said with a weary sigh. “I returned it to Asgard, but that was not enough for my father. I am apparently to do penance for not retrieving it fast enough, and for its appearance at the museum. As ever, it is all my fault, and my fault alone.” 

“But you didn't have anything to do with it being in the museum... Did you?”

Loki swung his legs swiftly over the side of his bed as he sat up. “Had I any idea it was on Midgard I would not have been wasting my time studying Shakespeare--a man I knew, mind you--I would have been looking for it!”

“You never did tell me what the deal was about that ring.” Though fairly certain Loki hadn’t promised Natasha Asgardian state secrets just to tell him about the ring, Tony’s curiosity had grown exponentially in the time Loki was missing. “I started tracking outbursts of violence and destruction in Manhattan after the theft at the museum. If my algorithm was correct, the ring moved all the way to Staten Island.” 

“You are correct, though that simplifies things.” Loki stood and began pacing along the edge of the rug, his hands held loosely behind his back. “I got the ring back, and I nearly caught the thief, though neither Fury nor my father feel as though that is worth mentioning in meting out punishment. But I’m starting in the middle. I suspect you would like to hear the story of how the ring was cursed in the first place.” 

Tony offered him a small shrug in response as he removed the gauntlet from his right hand and placed it on Loki’s barren desk. 

“Do I begin with ‘once upon a time?’” Loki mused. 

“Not if there’s only a couple of hours until Maria Hill gets back.” 

“True.” Loki faced Tony, making him feel much shorter than usual by looking down at him while he sat. His gaze again hovered over his neck, down his torso, with a hazy, hungry look that made Tony nearly squirm in his seat. Tony coughed into his hand and Loki’s eyes snapped up to his face again. “The Andvaranaut was originally enchanted to lead its owner to untold riches. Gold beyond a god’s imagination. Naturally, I wanted it.” 

“Naturally,” Tony added, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. 

“But I killed an otter who was actually a dwarf, and to repay his father, a dwarf, not an otter, ” Loki clarified, “I stole the ring from another dwarf, who cursed it.”  Tony’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, though the rest of his face reflected a deep confusion. Loki heaved a put-upon sigh. “This was a lifetime ago. I’m a changed god now, honest.” Despite Tony’s dubious expression, Loki continued. “I gave the ring to the dwarf and all was well and good. For me. Which is all that really matters.” 

“I feel like that’s not the whole story.” Tony sat back against the back of the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“It’s the  _ old _ story. The new one starts when a thief in cat ears steals a cursed artifact without knowing the curse.” 

“A thief with cat ears...” Tony wrinkled his brow in thought. “Do you mean that woman Fury was trying to recruit? The cat-burglar?” 

“Yes. A little on the nose for a cat-burglar to wear a ‘sexy cat’ costume from Halloween Express, but subtlety is lost on Midgardians, it seems.” Loki lowered himself again to the side of his bed and leaned back on the wall behind it, his feet still flat on the floor due to the length of his legs and the slim width of the mattress. “She took it from Manhattan into Hell’s Kitchen, where I nearly lost her. A man in red with little horns on his mask decided I was a threat for some reason, and that nonsense took nearly a day. Chasing someone is much more difficult when you’re being chased.” Loki examined his nails while he spoke. “From there, Brooklyn, Queens, and Staten Island. At the border to New Jersey I suspect she realized I wasn’t going to give up, so she threw the ring at me. Anticlimactic, I know,” Loki said with a shrug. “As soon as it was in my hands, I returned to Asgard.” 

“I thought you had been exiled?” Tony asked, and immediately regretted the question. 

Loki set his jaw and sneered. “I was, and I am. But I made my father aware of the Andvaruant’s presence on Midgard as soon as I knew, and he opened the Bifrost to get it back before dumping me back into Fury’s hands.”

“Wasn’t he at least glad that you got it back?” 

“I stole it, remember? So it’s all my fault.” The bitter edge in Loki’s voice was sharp as a razor. “Not Valkyrie, who was supposed to be taking care of it, not the museum for housing a cursed artifact in plain sight, and not the fool who stole it most recently.” 

“That doesn’t seem very fair.” 

“It doesn’t, does it?” Loki sighed through his nose and closed his eyes, all the malice draining from his face. He looked surprisingly human in that moment, weary and disappointed. When it was clear he was no longer speaking, Tony stood up and tentatively sat next to him. Loki opened one eye to glance at him out of the corner of it. 

“What’s with the cuffs?” Tony asked, his mouth dry. 

“Ahh, these.” Loki offered Tony his hand so he could examine them closer. “Magic inhibitors. Just in case I came up with any clever ways to free myself.” Tony looked over the cuffs, seeing now that the patterns were actually Asgardian writing, which he recognized but couldn’t read. They were seamless, and though he flipped Loki’s arm around--much to Loki’s amusement--Tony couldn’t tell where and how they unlocked. 

“I can’t open these, not here at least, if that’s what you were hoping.” Tony released Loki’s arm, not without a last frustrated glance at the cuffs. Between the shackles and the Destroyers, he was running into too much unfamiliar tech for his comfort. 

“I had no reason to suspect otherwise,” Loki said. With his arm no longer being held, he touched Tony’s arm just above the elbow, lightly, with two fingers that he dragged slowly up his bicep. Whatever the intended reaction, Tony felt his throat dry up again and the butterflies that had taken up residence in his stomach woke violently. 

“Then why did you promise to rat out Odin to Natasha?” He made no attempt to shrug off Loki’s hand, but glanced at the path of Loki’s fingers before looking him in the eye. 

“If you think I give an ounce for my father’s secrets you haven’t been paying attention,” Loki said with a weary sigh. He walked his fingers down to Tony’s forearm. “Maybe I was bored.”

“I don’t buy that.” Tony took his arm away to press his hands against the mattress in preparation of standing, but Loki lightly grabbed his wrist, so Tony stayed seated, feeling strangely as if this was the first time he had been alone with Loki, A kiss on the hand couldn’t have changed that much, yet Tony’s galloping pulse and fluttering belly said otherwise. “If you were just bored you wouldn’t have been asking for me.” 

“You know me so well, do you?” Loki asked, an amused smile playing over his lips as he released Tony’s wrist to trail his fingers down the back of his hand. “Then you know that I take my debts very seriously.” Tony looked at him blankly. Loki laughed without any mockery, and deliberately stroked the obvious callus on Tony’s thumb. “I owe you a marvelous night on the town to make up for the museum date I ruined.” 

“It wasn’t technically your fault,” Tony said without thinking. 

“I’m glad someone recognizes that I’m not the cause for all the evil in the universe.” Loki’s smile flashed into a sneer for a brief moment, but softened when he met Tony’s eyes. “Perhaps that’s why I like you, Anthony.” 

The breath Tony had been taking stuck in his throat, and this time, along with the butterflies, came the sensation of being dunked in a hot body of water. Warmth from his belly spread in all directions, and though he knew it was an expression, Tony was absolutely certain that his heart had skipped a beat. Whatever uncertain part of him flinched away so frequently was entirely silent, and Tony took the opportunity to sit back against the wall with Loki, shoulder to shoulder, flushing at the fact that his feet didn’t actually reach the floor like Loki’s did. As if entirely aware of what this change in posture signified, Loki pressed his shoulder to Tony’s and went back to toying with his hand. All the manic energy that had kept Tony up for two nights cooled to exhausted contentment, and Tony closed his eyes while Loki played with his hand, apparently searching for more calluses. 

“Shall I take you out when this asinine imprisonment is over?” Loki’s voice was just over a whisper, and he chuckled lightly in his throat when Tony nodded his answer. “How do you feel about Japanese food?” 

“I’m a fan.” 

“Good, I know just the place.” Loki’s voice was soft, bordering on tender, and his voice, the firm press of his shoulder, and the feather touch of his fingertips on Tony’s hand entirely changed the air in the room. Even with the Destroyers outside and the couched anger simmering in Loki, Tony recognized the rare, perfect silence for what it was. In that brief instant, everything was fine, everything was right. 

Loki’s hand left Tony’s, and when Tony glanced over at him to see what had changed, Loki’s face was close, too close for him to be doing anything but leaning in for a kiss. There was no time to think about whether or not kissing Loki was something he wanted to do, nor was there any reason to make that decision. Meeting Loki’s gaze for only an instant, Tony tilted his head and closed his eyes. 

The door swung opened. Tony jolted away from Loki, snapping to his feet as though he had been propelled off of the bed. Natasha strode swiftly into the room, carrying an armful of books which she dumped next to Tony’s gauntlet on Loki’s desk.

“I just got a text from Steve,” she said as she walked to his side of the room, giving Tony a curious glance out of the corner of her eyes. “Maria’s not buying it and she’s on her way back.” She looked away from Tony to address Loki. “I got  _ Great Gatsby _ , so stop asking me.” 

“You’d better leave,” Loki said to Tony. the tenderness gone from his voice, replaced by the familiar sarcastic tone he normally spoke with. It had only taken an instant for the room to return to normal, and whatever impulses had led Tony onto Loki’s bed were gone. 

“Sounds like I should.” Tony turned to Natasha. “Thanks for the heads-up.” Natasha grinned. “But I’m not giving you any help with hacking into any cameras.” Her face fell and Loki waved as Tony walked out. In the hallway, Tony could hear her talking to Loki, probably about whatever secret he’d promised her, but he left the Maverick dorm as quickly as possible in case Maria was closer than she said she was. 

The night air was chilly, and it made Tony’s sweaty tank top cold. He was thankful for that chill as it made lingering outside an uncomfortable prospect. He pushed himself back to Stark Tower holding that rare, perfect silence in that place in the back of his mind where monstrous doubt lived. A date was planned, his racing thoughts were calm, and the voice of his father was silent. For the moment everything made sense, and those were the moments he lived for. 


	4. Chapter 4

“Sir, if I may, I would recommend choosing another necktie.” 

Upon hearing the unprompted advice from the A.I., Tony glanced up irritably from the tie in his hand to the corner of the room where the hidden speaker was embedded. 

“And why is that?” Tony rubbed the silk between his thumb and forefinger. For the last hour and a half he had been preparing: finding the right clothes, choosing the right cologne, and making sure not a single whisker was out of place on his goatee. Picking a tie was not supposed to take very long, but he had been standing in front of the massive tie rack for fifteen minutes, spinning it slowly while he came up with a reason to discard every tie. 

“I’m sorry Sir, I cannot hear you over such a loud floral print.” 

“Point made,” Tony grumbled as he hung the tie back on the rack and sifted through the rest. “Since when do you give me fashion advice?” 

“I am programmed to assist you,” J.A.R.V.I.S. said dryly. “According to my observations, fashion is one of the areas in which you require the most assistance.” 

Tony rolled his eyes and chose a hunter green tie with a subtle tartan pattern. With a soft push, the tie rack retracted silently into its recessed cabinet, the mirrored door sliding down, hiding the tie rack within the same cabinets that held his shoes, belts, and other accessories. He looped the tie under his collar and begin to tie it. 

“Sir if I may--” 

“J.A.R.V.I.S., for the love of god--” 

“--I would recommend against wearing a tartan print with a houndstooth vest.” 

“Your objection is noted, but I’ve got five minutes to finish getting ready,” Tony said, tightening the knot and smoothing the tie over his shirt. “And I’m spending it arguing with my computer,” he added under his breath. 

With the vest buttoned and a light blazer over it, he looked good enough to get a table at any of the city’s most exclusive restaurants--even if his last name wasn’t Stark. Before leaving the penthouse he added the last, and most important, accessory--a silver smart watch that, with the input of a simple code, transformed into a slim, portable repulsor glove. After the museum, there was no sense taking any chances. 

Idling just outside of the Avengers Academy gate was a large, private taxi with tinted windows, its halogen headlights spilling oceans of bright light into the evening. Tony squared his shoulders and approached it with a false confidence that he hoped masked the nervous jitters caused by manic butterflies bouncing around in his empty stomach. Waiting outside the back door was a tall, reserved man wearing a tuxedo. He silently opened the door for Tony. As he got close enough to see inside the car, Tony’s manufactured bravado failed him, and he paused, staring. 

Long before Tony was aware that Loki was flirting with him, he knew that Loki was attractive. It wasn’t just that certain girls, and certain guys, for that matter, watched Loki with a hawk’s eye as he walked through a room, or lounged, careless and decadent, on sofas in common rooms, or that Janet said he was the best-dressed person on campus other than her--Loki was just a good looking guy. Tony was certain he had never given Loki’s looks a single thought, but the sight inside the brightly lit cab made him realize how much he was lying to himself. 

Loki lounged against the leather seat as if it were a throne, his hair tousled just so, neat black polish on the nails he was drumming idly on the seat next to him. He wore black, pinstripe trousers, the thread-width stripes exaggerating the length of his already long legs. On top, he wore a shirt made of some shiny, reflective material, the iridescent blue-black changing hues when he shifted. The arms of the shirt began at the top of his upper arm, leaving his shoulders, collarbone, and neck bare, all except for a wide, flat necklace that shimmered gold under the overhead lights. Having noticed Tony standing on the sidewalk, Loki extended one hand and beckoned with one perfectly manicured finger. 

“Right on time,” Loki said as Tony slid into the seat next to him. “Not desperate, are you?”

“You’re the one who asked me to dinner thirty seconds after you got out of your room,” Tony said, finding his voice as the cab driver climbed into the front seat. 

“Touché,” said Loki, an enigmatic smile crossing his face as the cab started down the familiar streets of Manhattan.  

“I still can’t believe you were a prisoner on campus. I’m going to have a conversation with Natasha now that you’re out so she can add this to the list of things she’s investigating Fury for.” 

Loki waved a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing the Widow Woman needs to be concerned with. I have been in far worse prisons for far longer.” 

“Okay but this is a  _ school. _ Your history doesn’t excuse S.H.I.E.L.D. for locking up a student on campus like a criminal,” Tony said, finding it an effort not to raise his voice, but keeping it low despite the anger creeping in. “It might not bother you, but what if Jan did something Fury didn’t like? What if Kamala did? Would they lock them up too?” 

Loki’s gaze snapped from the window to Tony, and there was a hard edge to his eyes. “They will go straight to Hel if they try.” 

“I didn’t think Asgardians believed in hell,” Tony said. The sound of the buried anger in Loki’s voice unsettled him. With as long as it had taken for them to go on another date, the last thing Tony wanted was for it to be ruined before they even reached the restaurant. 

“Oh!” Loki chuckled and turned again to the window. “I don’t. Hel--Hela resides in Niflheim, the realm of the dead. She is...” Loki trailed off, and Tony watched him work his jaw as he stared out the window. “Nevermind. It’s best to simply hope you never meet her.” 

Having no reply, Tony looked out the window again, silent as they drove. He realized then that the streets no longer looked familiar. By the light of bright streetlamps, he saw stores he didn’t recognize, some with signs so faded and worn that he couldn’t make out the lettering. At a stop light, he counted three parked cars with their steering wheels locked with large metal bars. He returned his gaze to Loki. 

“Where did you say this restaurant was?” From what he could tell, they had left the part of the city where Tony normally ate out. 

“It’s not much further.” 

At the next light, there was a parked car with no windshield, shattered glass covering the street. The signs on buildings were still obscured, and Tony couldn’t pick out a single chain name he recognized. Several stores had metal bars welded to the outside of the windows, giving them the appearance of an old-timey jailhouse. 

“Loki?” Tony asked warily, waiting until he had his attention again to continue. “Did I do something to piss you off?” 

“Why would you ask that?” Genuine confusion colored Loki’s face. “We’re going to the best Japanese restaurant in New York.” 

“In this neighborhood? It’s a sl--” Catching himself before he said the word “slum” Tony chewed on his lower lip in thought. “Per Se is near 5th avenue, and we’re a long way from there.” 

“Per Se?” Recognition crossed Loki’s face an instant after he spoke and he let out an undignified snort. “That place that serves celery mousse and edible flowers for four hundred dollars per person? Please.” 

A police siren screeched to life from directly behind the cab, and Tony jumped in his seat, his chest growing cold as he craned his neck to see the blue and red flashing lights behind them. It came to him then: flashing lights in the driveway, late night, twisted metal. The memory brought an icy sick feeling to life in his chest while the driver of the cab, unperturbed, pulled to the side and let the police car fly past, flashing lights garishly painting unfamiliar buildings as it disappeared. Tony closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the seat, trying to settle his rapid heart rate, trying to ground himself to the smooth leather under his hand and the light pressure of Loki’s foot next to his. 

“Are you going to be ill?” Loki asked, sounding concerned, but confused. “You have the same look on your face that Kamala had in the Quinjet.” 

“No, no.” Tony sat up straighter and raked his hand through his hair. 

“You can’t lie to a liar,” Loki said, the corner of his mouth twitching into a brief smile. 

Without questioning him further, Loki leaned up to speak to the driver. “It’s just around the corner,” he said. The cabby nodded, still silent, while he turned down the small side-street Loki indicated. 

Despite the streetlamps lining the road, the side street was dim as one lamp flickered on and off in a jittery, arrhythmic pattern. Most of the buildings were closed, metal shutters pulled over the storefronts and locked for the night, but near the end of the street was a brightly lit patio with two-seat tables holding half a dozen lively diners. 

While Loki paid the cab driver and had what Tony assumed was a one-sided conversation with him, Tony walked around the car to look at the restaurant. It was tiny and flanked by two shuttered stores with names Tony didn’t recognize, but the windows were brightly lit and the patio was full of the contented chattering of customers. There were no signs to indicate what the restaurant might be named, but a familiar neon open sign was lit on the glass door. From what he could see, the decorations inside were homey, with a preference for florals--an atmosphere that dug up vague memories of visiting a grandmother when he was younger. The restaurant was out of place in the empty street, but the view through the window told him it was just as busy as any of the big name restaurants in Manhattan were that night. 

“What are we waiting for?” asked Loki, and Tony nearly jumped when he realized he was right by his side, not having noticed the cab drive off. 

“Nothing. Shall we?” Tony placed his hand lightly on the small of Loki’s back and led him up to the restaurant, a flutter in his stomach as they walked. 

Just inside the door, in lieu of a host podium, an elderly Japanese woman sat in a rocking chair with a cat on her lap. She wore a soft green shawl over a dress with a wisteria pattern. She had a dignified beauty, with soft cheekbones and lively eyes in a face framed by short hair, still mostly black despite the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth that gave away her age. The cat, mostly white with round patches of orange and black on its head and back, opened huge green eyes that shone with an inner light. It hopped off of the woman’s lap, the bell on its collar jingling merrily as it trotted over to them. The woman looked up with a kind, expectant expression, but when she recognized Loki joy bloomed on her face and she leapt to her feet with vigor Tony had not expected from her. 

“My favorite customer returns!” she said with an eager smile. Her eyes were sharp and bright as she glanced briefly at Tony before returning her attention to Loki, her expression like that of a mother looking at her doting son. At Loki’s feet, winding around his legs, the cat meowed as if to echo her sentiment. “It’s been so long. I thought you had returned to Asgard.” She approached Loki and much to Tony’s surprise, reached up to pinch one of his cheeks. Loki only smiled. 

“I have had my fill of Asgardian food, Tokie-san.” He bent to give Tokie a brief hug. “Roast boar every day for centuries. Can you imagine?” Tokie gave him a long squeeze before releasing him, and as soon as his arms were free he crouched and pet the cat impatiently waiting at his feet. “Hello to you as well, Tama-san.” The cat let out a chirruping meow and bumped heads gently with him while Tony watched in disbelief. 

While they chatted, Tony looked in at the restaurant. The dining room was smaller than his patio, but a combination of light wood floors coupled with airy, abstract floral paintings made it look less cramped. The tables were all the same two-seaters as outside, but in one corner several had been pushed together to accommodate a large group of diners. On the left was the sushi bar, with only three stools up against the wooden surface, while on the right was several small booths, two of which were taken. From the ceiling hung lamps with mosaic glass shades, casting warm yellow light that filtered through the shades and painted the ceiling rainbow. It was clean, quiet, and cozy, full of charm and missing all of the pretentious A-listers who were probably spending their night at Per Se. 

Loki straightened up and slipped an arm around Tony’s waist, speaking again to Tokie before Tony could protest the touch. “I’d like you to meet Anthony Stark. He also attends Avengers Academy.” 

“I’ve seen you in the paper, Mr. Stark,” Tokie said warmly, offering her hand, which he took and softly shook. “I didn’t know you kept such good company.” 

“I didn’t know I did either,” said Tony, glancing briefly at Loki when he heard him chuckle. 

“Could we have the booth in the back?” Loki asked, releasing Tony as he was forced to step to the side to let a couple leave. 

“Of course you can!” Tokie scooped up the cat before leading them into the restaurant proper. She craned her neck to peer towards the back of the restaurant, then waved them in.“It’s open right now, so seat yourself.” 

She disappeared into the kitchen before Tony could thank her, and he raised a quizzical eyebrow at Loki as he was led to the series of small, two-person booths on the back wall of the restaurant. Loki slid into his seat with serpentine grace and waited expectantly for Tony to do the same. The table between them was so small that Tony’s knees bumped up against Loki’s when he sat, and Tony shifted in his seat to try to find a position in which their legs weren’t pressed together. 

“You’re her favorite customer?” Tony asked with a raised brow. Around them the restaurant hummed with the pleasant murmur of dinnertime conversation and servers darted expertly around the small floor, balancing plates on large trays, refilling cups of tea, and handing out checks. 

“It’s not every day the god of mischief favors your restaurant with a visit,” Loki said with a dramatic toss of his hair. “Nor is it every day a restaurateur recognizes the god of mischief for what they are.” Glancing towards the kitchen, Loki watched as the spotted cat bounded out and up to their table. It hopped up next to him and leaned against his body, not leaving a single white hair on his dark shirt. 

“She knew you before you introduced yourself?” Tony asked, this time both eyebrows raising incredulously. 

“Some people are better at recognizing us than others,” Loki said, somewhat smug as he scratched the cat under the chin. “Also, I enchanted one of her welcoming cats when I was here the first time.” The cat at his side purred loudly enough for Tony to hear it across the table. 

“That’s the cat? You brought a statue to life?” The cat oozed down from Loki’s seat and walked under the table to Tony’s, hopping up beside him to lean her warm, vibrating body against his leg. Instantly, he was covered with cat hair. 

“It was a gift for showing me that Midgard was not the worst place I could be exiled to.” Loki leaned his elbows onto the table, cupping his chin in his hands as he watched Tama rub on Tony’s blazer. “Also, it was a gift to a fellow trickster.” 

“The restaurateur is a trickster?” Tony kept his voice low, looking furtively around before he spoke. 

“Of course not.” Loki laughed and pointed to the cat sitting at Tony’s side. “To her. All cats are tricksters, Anthony, as well are foxes and magpies. Do your schools teach you nothing?” 

“Wait a second. You gave a statue a gift by making it real? How does that work?” Puzzled, Tony scratched the cat’s chin as it nudged its face into his hand. 

“Magic 101.” Loki lifted his head off of his hands, and used the twisting motion of one finger to create the illusion of a small gold snake winding around his wrist. Once it encircled his wrist, the snake froze, turning into a bracelet with a jeweled eye. “All objects are imbued with a certain amount of energy. This energy is what allows me to enchant or curse an object.” He slipped off the bracelet and set it on the table. Its emerald eye glinted under the overhead light. “Now, after a certain amount time, this energy grows. Older objects accept more powerful enchantments easier, but they can also develop an inner life.” He pressed his finger to the top of the snake’s head, and the bracelet faded from gold into the black and yellow of a garter snake, uncoiled, and the tiny tip of its tongue zipped out of its mouth. “If you know magic, you can tell when something inside an object wishes to be freed. It’s uncommon, but happens enough for it to be taught to every sorcerer on Asgard.” With a wave of his fingers, the snake disappeared. Loki smiled. “I’m rather surprised to see it happen on Midgard, but Tama-san wanted out, so I let her out.” 

Before the conversation could continue, Tokie was at their tableside with a small white bottle and two shallow, saucer-like cups on a serving tray. “I have your favorite sake. Already warm.” Tony’s heart sunk. Refusing would be rude, but watching Loki drink would be all the worse. 

“I appreciate the trouble, but tonight I must refuse,” Loki said, glancing briefly into Tony’s relieved eyes. “But if you have it on hand the next time I come alone, I would be happy to indulge.” 

Tokie handed the tray to a passing server, speaking a few words in Japanese to them. She then turned her attention back to the table. “Would you like a menu?” She asked, addressing Tony now, but Loki chimed in before his mouth even opened. 

“Are you serving shabu-shabu tonight, Tokie-san?” Loki asked, a touch hopefully, while Tony resigned himself to not getting a word in edgewise between the old friends. 

“Shabu-shabu is always on the menu,” she replied with a warm smile. “I’ll have the kitchen get started.” 

When she left, the cat followed her, and Tony looked with dismay at the fine white hair clinging to his blazer. He attempted to surreptitiously brush it off, but only pushed it deeper into the weave of the fabric. 

“A little presumptuous to order for your date,” Tony said, only mildly annoyed. It was the sort of thing he expected from Loki, and while he was unfamiliar with the dish, he was curious to try it. 

“If you dislike it, I have a host of ways to make it up to you.” With barely a pause, Loki asked, “Why don’t you drink alcohol?” 

Tony jolted in his seat. That question had been asked by many people, but never in such a blunt manner, and rarely without the asker having pulled him to the side to speak in private. Though nobody in the restaurant was looking at them, Tony hesitated. The answer was simple, and he hated to give it. 

“I’m an alcoholic,” he said, trying to pretend as if it were meaningless, as if it hadn’t taken multiple doctors, counselors, a stint in rehab at 19, and bi-weekly Alcoholics Anonymous meetings for him to admit it to himself. He braced himself for the usual reactions: disbelief, disgust, disappointment. What he wasn’t prepared for was Loki’s expression of mild confusion, his brow furrowed in such a way that he almost looked concerned. 

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean by that, though I imagine it’s serious by the look on your face.” 

Tony’s jaw dropped and for an instant he just looked at Loki, stunned. “What, is there no concept of chemical dependency on Asgard?” 

“Clearly it’s something Midgardian, or else I would have heard of it.” Loki’s voice had a touch of familiar irritability in it, but Tony hesitated. He had never had to describe exactly what that meant. 

“When I drink I drink too much,” he began slowly. Trying to put the words together in a way that made sense for someone who didn’t understand the concept of alcoholism felt like teaching calculus to a lab rat. “And then I have to keep drinking or else I get sick. It goes from wanting to have a drink to needing it.” Once he had begun, it was easier, and the words flowed despite the diners and servers around them. “I used to drink until I blacked out, and the first thing I’d do when I came to was get another bottle.” It wasn’t the most glamorous confession, and he suspected that Loki, with his dark humor and belief in his own superiority, would laugh at him for being unable to control himself around something as simple and ubiquitous as alcohol. Loki didn’t laugh, rather he furrowed his brow with thoughtful concern, and Tony felt a weight not unlike that of the entire world lift off of him.

“That’s unfortunate,” said Loki. “But it makes a fair bit of sense.” 

“How come you knew I didn’t drink? Did Janet tell you?” 

“I have no need to be told something I can see with my own eyes.” Loki absently dragged his fingertip around in unseen patterns on the table as he spoke. “With as often as I am at Club A, it’s laughable to think I wouldn’t notice that you, among all your friends, never order an alcoholic drink. Especially when I’ve had my eye on you so closely.” He glanced up from the pattern he was drawing and met Tony’s eyes. “But I am more observant than most, it seems.” 

“But why have you been watching me so closely?” Tony asked, taking his attention off of Loki to thank the server who had brought them steaming cups of green tea. 

“Asks the man who lists his occupation on Facebook as ‘handsome genius billionaire’.” 

“I think my Facebook page also says I’m straight,” Tony said, regretting it instantly. But again, Loki’s expression was one of confusion, and the lack of recognition in Loki’s eyes nearly left Tony speechless. Nearly. “I mean. I guess...” He raked his hand through his hair and chewed his lower lip. “Wow, looks like it’s awkward confession night,” he said with a nervous laugh. “I’ve never dated another man before.” 

“Anthony,” Loki said with one brow raised, “you and I both know that I’m not ‘another man’.” 

“Okay, but people on Earth can’t shapeshift into a supermodel whenever they want.” 

“That’s hardly my point.” Loki sat back in the booth and tapped his fingers lightly on the table. “Amora changes her shape, but she’s always a woman. It’s in here,” Loki said, pointing up to his face, “not out here.” Loki gestured to his body. 

Tony furrowed his brow, and Loki sighed. 

“You assume that when I change my shape, not to another person mind you, but to another version of myself, I still view myself as a man.” Loki licked his lips, then took a sip of his tea before continuing. “I don’t, and I can’t. You have seen me when I am a woman, and I am. I’m a man, I’m a woman, I’m neither, I’m both. I am whatever story I want to tell, and most of all, I am myself.” Loki leaned forward on his elbows, lacing his fingers together. “There are names for it on Midgard, I’m told. Nonbinary. Genderfluid. But what is most important is that I am Asgardian, and Midgardian concepts of gender cannot apply to me. Neither can concepts of sexuality, for that matter. In Asgard, there’s just sex, no caveats. No judgment for who sleeps with whom.” 

Now that Loki mentioned it, Tony  _ had _ heard the terms nonbinary and genderfluid before, but he couldn’t remember the context, nor had given them much thought. While he had been trying to work on the bad habit of filtering out information that didn’t directly affect him or involve him, there were still things that slipped through the cracks. Beyond that, trying to process the fact that dating Loki meant something entirely different than dating any other human took more time than he currently had. 

He eyed Tony for a moment. “I see that this is a lot to take in.” 

“Yeah. You could say that.” Tony didn’t know where to start. Did he talk about the homophobia? The way Howard always told him to man up? 

“If I may indulge my curiosity, why, if it distresses you, are we on a date? Another date, for that matter.” 

Tony swallowed hard. In the warm light of the restaurant, Loki couldn’t be more handsome. The line of his jaw was sharp, his cheekbones high, and his eyes sparkled with keen intelligence. The fact was, if Loki wasn’t a man at least some of the time, there wouldn’t be a single issue. Tony closed his eyes as the phantom voice of Howard tried to emerge. For once, he was able to quiet it before it got a chance to say anything. 

“I’m reevaluating some things. New information requires reassessment. Every genius knows that,” he added with a grin, encouraged not just by his win in the internal battle against his father’s ghost, but by the way Loki’s eyes lit and the corner of his mouth twitched into the smallest smile. 

Despite Loki’s smile, the conversation fizzled to a halt just as the rest of the restaurant reached the natural lull in chatter that comes during meals. Tony looked above Loki’s head at a painting of delicate trumpet flowers, searching for something, anything, to talk about, but finding his brain uncharacteristically muddled and quiet. A server passed them holding a pitcher of water, but otherwise their corner sunk into silence. 

“Nobody kills a mood like a Stark, huh?” Tony flashed a crooked smile at Loki, internally scrambling for an opportunity to leave the heavy topics behind. He nearly slapped himself on the forehead when it came. “So how did you find a little place like this? I can’t imagine it’s listed in Zagat’s.” 

Loki rolled his eyes. “As if any guide to eateries could list every good restaurant in this city. Tell me, Anthony, does Zagat’s list food carts?” 

“No. Why would it?” Tony asked. 

“Or how about that hole-in-the-wall three blocks from campus, the one with the wonderful falafel?” 

“I don’t actually know, but probably not.” Tony furrowed his brow. “But I don’t really think about those kinds of places when I want to go out for dinner.” 

“Of course not!” Loki leaned forward, animated, his eyes sparkling, his gestures dramatic. “You midgardians don’t know how good you have it! A thousand different kinds of food from a thousand different cultures, and you look at some curated list to decide what to eat.” 

“How do you decide, then?” He might have been insulted by Loki lumping him in with people who didn’t appreciate good food if not for how unusual it was for Loki to talk about his interests. On campus, he was aloof, often irritable, and while he had a small circle of acquaintances, he rarely joined conversations. 

With a wide sweep of his arm at the restaurant, Loki said, “Look around you. It’s Wednesday night and every seat is taken, despite the lack of parking, despite the location. If you want to find good food you leave the tourist areas, you wander, you look for food carts with lines and family restaurants without a seat to spare. No chains. No restaurants with celebrity chefs like Per Se.” 

As if it had been planned, the moment he stopped speaking, two servers arrived with their food. First, a hot plate was placed in the center of the table and turned on. Upon it was placed a large bowl of steaming broth, the scent of which was so rich and delicious that Tony’s stomach let out an audible grumble. Around the hot plate the servers set dishes of sauces, bowls of rice, and plates of green onions, mushrooms, and cabbage. The star of the meal, however, was the plate layered with paper thin strips of perfectly marbled steak. Even Tony, whose cooking experience was limited to putting fruit and vegetables into a blender, knew that slicing the steak that thinly would have taken a skilled hand. The servers refilled their tea, gave them wooden chopsticks in paper sleeves, and bowed slightly before hurrying back to the kitchen. 

When the servers had left the table, Loki broke his chopsticks and picked up the plate laden with vegetables. He dumped them into the broth, which was now starting to boil rather than just steam, and stirred it around with his chopsticks. 

“You’ve never had this before, correct?” Loki asked, continuing when Tony shook his head. “It’s very simple. You take the meat,” Loki said, demonstrating as he spoke, “dip it into the broth, and swish it around for about ten seconds. Then into the sauce, and onto the rice to cool for a moment before you eat it.” 

Tony mimicked what Loki did, but wasn’t as skilled with chopsticks and nearly dropped the steak as he transferred it from the broth to the rice. “So, is Japanese food your favorite?” Tony asked as he watched Loki take a bite of meat and rice from his chopsticks. Loki gestured noncommittally with said chopsticks, offering Tony the one-handed equivalent of a shrug. 

“My favorite is anything that doesn’t taste like boar and overcooked vegetables. When I’m king, there will be a larger cultural exchange with Midgard. If mortals deserve our protection, as my oaf of a brother often says, then it’s only fair that we get something out of the deal. Curry powder alone would make the food more tolerable.” 

There was something tragic about how often Loki referenced Asgard as though his future kingship was guaranteed. Anyone who had spoken to Odin at least once knew how little he cared for Loki in comparison to Thor. Tony had noticed shades of Howard in Odin early on, and he alone avoided the Asgardian king when he was on campus unless his presence was demanded. As he watched Loki cooking another piece of meat, it occurred to him that despite the many differences, their upbringing may have been fairly similar. 

Then the restaurant shook. 

All of the diners, Tony and Loki included, looked up from their food to cast glances at their dining partners, then around at the rest of the patrons. One server, unsteady on his feet, had to grab a chair back to keep himself from tipping over. A murmur of confusion rose, then fell, as the brief tremor subsided and everyone went back to their meals. 

“That was weird,” Tony said, reaching for his water glass. Loki frowned, nodding, his hand shooting out to grab Tony’s tipping glass as another tremor shook the restaurant. This time alarm rose from some of the diners, and Tokie-san poked her head out of the kitchen to see what was happening. Tony pulled up a holographic display from the smart watch on his wrist, quickly scanning police reports, calls to 911, and any information J.A.R.V.I.S. had on the tremors. 

Loki pointed at the display with his chopsticks. “Anything?” he asked, frowning as Tokie-san moved from table to table, checking on the diners. Another tremor shook the building, this time punctuated by the sharp clatter of breaking glass from the kitchen. 

“Sir, there are no reports of seismic activity in your area, though several 911 calls reference seeing a large figure in the streets.” J.A.R.V.I.S.’ voice was tinny from the small speaker embedded into the watch, but both Loki and Tony could hear him despite the rising voices around them. Loki caught Tony’s eye, flicked his gaze towards the door, and nodded when Tony got to his feet. 

“Tokie-san,” Loki said, gently taking the elderly woman’s shoulders. “I want you to lock the doors until either I or Tony return.” 

“What’s going on?” She asked, keeping her voice low as to not alarm the diners, though concern was obvious on her face. “Is it an earthquake?” She put her hand over her mouth. “A bomb?” she asked in a whisper. 

“I’m going to go find out.” Leaning down, Loki placed a gentle kiss onto Tokie-san’s forehead. “I won’t let anything happen to you or your restaurant. You have my word.” Tokie-san nodded, squared her shoulders, and followed Loki to the door, locking it as soon as he joined Tony outside. 

“Natasha says S.H.I.E.L.D. has nothing on this, same with the military according to Rhodey,” Tony said once Loki was at his side. From his jacket pocket he had pulled a pair of glasses with rose-tinted lenses. Once on, the infrared and ultraviolet spectrums of light became visible, but as Tony scanned the city he saw nothing out of the ordinary. “And the only things I see moving are cars and--what the fuck is that?” He slipped the glasses off and looked at the sky. 

Another tremor shook the buildings and streetlamps around them. A block or two down a car alarm screamed, and Loki took the glasses from Tony to put them on. 

“What did you see out th--” Loki was interrupted by the crunch of metal and glass as the source of the sound came out from behind a building. 

Two blocks from the restaurant was a figure, five stories tall and shining in the moonlight. It was a giant robot, resembling those in old black and white science fiction movies, shaped like a human with a rounded helmet-like head, long arms that terminated in mitts rather than hands, and barely articulated legs with round pedestal feet. 

“J.A.R.V.I.S. I need the Mark V asap.” Tony said, taking the glasses off of Loki’s face and stuffing them back into his pocket. With a few keystrokes the watch on his wrist expanded, sliding a repulsor into his palm and a series of red, interlocking plates over the back of his hand and between his fingers. He looked at Loki at his side and realized with surprise that instead of the sleek, off the shoulder shirt he had been wearing seconds before, Loki was in his usual outfit, the thick gold necklace now part of his dark leather vest, his green coat moving in the slight wind. In his hand he held his staff, the blue gem shining bright in the dim light. “Well you don’t waste any time,” Tony said. 

“Neither do you, it seems,” Loki replied, pointing to Tony’s glove. “Shall we go show whoever is responsible for this nonsense what happens when you interrupt a god’s dinner?” 

“I think we need to focus on getting it away from people before someone gets hurt.” Without thinking, he grabbed Loki’s arm as the ground shook him so hard he nearly lost his footing. Loki merely helped him right himself. Tony began to run towards the robot. “I can’t tell what kind of tech it is from here! It looks ancient!” 

“If someone was piloting it, where do you think they would be?” Loki asked, running beside him with ease. 

They reached the robot just as it crossed into an intersection. Cars screeched to a stop and either backed up or turned around to move out of the robot’s way. It turned its head as Loki and Tony appeared, and its whole body swung slowly around until it faced them. With one step it was in the middle of the intersection, and Loki and Tony ran to separate sides of the street to avoid the traffic lights it knocked down as it moved. 

“Either in the chest or the head!” Tony lifted his gloved hand and shot a repulsor blast at the robot. It hit it square in the chest, but other than denting the metal, it did no perceptible damage. “But I can’t fly up there to check until my suit gets here!” 

“Bah! Who needs to fly?” Loki ran towards the robot as it readied itself to take another step. It was slow, and every step took a deliberate lifting of one leg and leaning forward into the step. As soon as it lifted one foot off of the ground, Loki leapt onto the other one and began to run up the leg as though he was running on solid ground. 

“What the fuck!” Tony shouted as he ran forward, aiming a repulsor blast at the lifted foot, trying to push it off balance and failing. The portable repulsor had far less energy to draw on than the ones embedded in his suit, and it looked as though it wasn’t strong enough to do any real damage to the robot.

“Seven league boots!” Loki shouted back. “Remind me and one day I’ll show you how they work on waterfalls!” 

Tony heard a familiar sound from behind him and glanced back to see the Mark IV suit flying at him at top speed. He extended his arms to both sides and closed his eyes. Behind him, the suit exploded into its component parts and snapped into place around his body, the helmet last, the faceplate only snapping shut when the rest of the parts were in place. The suit whirred to life around him, and he rocketed up to the robot, only to get swatted to the side by its arm, which moved much faster than the legs. Tony righted himself to see Loki easily jogging up the robot’s massive chest, the staff in his hand shrinking and widening into a sword. With the ease of sliding a knife through butter, Loki jammed the sword into the robot’s chest and began to walk backwards, carving a thin line, a shower of sparks falling around him. Tony flew to his side and used his repulsors to widen the cut, but the robot lifted its arm and swept Loki off of its chest. 

Tony killed the repulsors and dove down to catch Loki as he fell, grabbing him right before he hit an abandoned car in the middle of the street. 

“How romantic,” Loki said with a grin. “But I would have survived the fall.” 

“I’m sure you would, but the car wouldn’t.” Tony flew up with Loki in his arms and deposited him on the shoulder of the robot. 

“Are you going to call S.H.I.E.L.D. or are we going to handle this alone?” Loki asked as he jammed his sword into the weld between the robot’s head and its body. 

“I already called them.” Tony zipped to the slice they had made in the robot’s chest and dug his hands into the slit in the metal. He peeled it backwards easily, but found nobody inside, just a bunch of wires and gears. 

“A pity,” Loki said. “I think we could handle this one on our own.” 

“You might be right, this thing looks like clockwo--” Tony’s words were cut off by the massive explosion emanating from the robot’s core. Both Loki and Tony were thrown backwards, the former catching his balance by landing on a streetlamp, the latter slamming into the pavement and skidding backwards, leaving a massive ditch in his wake. A shower of metal fell upon them, several large pieces embedding themselves into the cement, while one of the mitts landed on a parked car. 

The retro robot was gone. In its place was a sleek, futuristic robot, which, while smaller, moved with ease and impressive speed. On its chest, almost like a lapel pin, was a stylized letter H. 

“Justin fucking Hammer!” shouted Tony. From the lamppost Loki turned to look at him quizzically. “If this is Hammer tech, it’s going to be full of weapons, but he’s usually smart enough not to test them in a city full of people!” As if to contradict Tony, a rocket launcher emerged from the robot’s shoulder and fired. Without another word, Tony was in the air, chasing it. He caught up to it only feet away from an apartment complex and grabbed it, flying upward and letting it go, changing its trajectory so it exploded in the air. 

“Looks like he’s not as smart as you think,” Loki said. The robot, much faster now, began running towards the street where Tokie-san’s restaurant’s was, and Loki leapt from the lamppost when it did, again jamming his sword into it and using it like a handle, hanging on as it ran, unable to keep his footing. 

“Get off of it! I’m going to give it the omni beam!” Tony shouted, waiting until Loki retrieved his sword and jumped down to divert as much power as he could into the central arc reactor on the suit, firing as the robot closed in. A massive hole formed in the robot’s chest, but when Tony stopped firing, it began to close on its own. With no other ideas in the forefront of his mind, Tony flew to Loki’s side. “We need help,” he said. “We need some heavier hitters, like Hulk or Th-- uh Steve.” 

“We need no help. Get me onto its head. You said if someone was piloting it, that’s where they’d be, and I can’t climb it when it’s moving that fast.” Loki put an arm around Tony’s shoulder and Tony wrapped his arm around his chest, wobbling slightly when he took off due to the lack of one stabilizing repulsor and the added weight of another person. He deposited Loki onto the robot’s head. 

“You better hang on because I’m going to try to take out its legs,” Tony said, flying downward and shooting his repulsors at one of the robots knees. It was at the mouth of the street now, and when he looked behind him, Tony could see patrons at the window, watching the robot with fear and confusion. 

“I’ll be fine, just get it away from Tokie’s.” 

When the blast to its knees didn’t work, Tony flew at the robot with full force, slamming into it and setting it off balance. It had to step back a few steps to regain its footing, and Loki used that time to once again attempt to open up the robot’s head with his sword. This time, a faceplate fell off of the robot, clattering to the ground, but behind it was no pilot, just a holographic screen that lit up, showing the blond, bespectacled face of Justin Hammer. 

“Well if it isn’t Tony Stark!” The robot stopped and put its hands, balled into fists, on its hips. “Whaddya think? Pretty cool, huh? Retro and high tech at the same time!” 

“You’re putting innocent people in danger. Again.” Tony hovered in front of the screen, wishing he could punch Hammer right in his smug, sneering face. Meanwhile, Loki had carved a hole into the back of the robot’s head and had one arm inside of it, though what he was doing Tony couldn’t tell. 

“Aw, this old thing is harmless! Just taking her for a spin to see how she moves in crowded areas. Can’t sell it without testing it! Why don’t you smile for the camera, Stark?” One of the robotic arms lifted, pointing up, where Tony realized at least five drones were circling around, likely fitted with tiny cameras.

“You shot a rocket at an apartment building! I wouldn’t call that harmless!” 

Loki’s hand emerged from the back of the robot’s head, gripping a fistful of broken wires. 

“Just a technical mishap. Already getting that fixed on the assembly line.” Hammer’s voice was a little less assured, and the holographic screen began to flicker. “Anyway, this sweet girl has a path to follow, so why don’t you and your sidekick get out of my way?” With that, the robot reached behind its head, grabbed Loki, and hurled him at Tony. Tony caught him easily, but the force of the throw pushed him backwards in the air. 

“I didn’t know I’d be in your arms all night,” Loki said, flashing him a coy smile. “Too bad you’re in the suit.” 

Behind the faceplate, Tony’s cheeks heated. “Robot first. Flirtatious banter later.” 

“You mean to tell me you can’t do both?” Loki shrugged helplessly as Tony flew them after the robot. “I thought you were better at the whole dashing hero thing.” 

“Nobody calls anyone ‘dashing’ anymore, Loki,” Tony said. Despite the hole in its chest having regenerated as soon as it was made, the hole Loki made on the back of its head was still open. Sparks emanated from inside the robot’s head, and broken wires dangled out of the hole. “Looks like whatever metal Hammer made the chest out of wasn’t used on the rest of the robot. Typical half-assed Hammerco engineering.”

“So what do you suggest?” Loki asked, sarcasm thick in his voice. “We send a strongly worded letter about using inferior materials?” 

“No, we take out the head!” The robot passed the door of Tokie-san’s restaurant, much to the horror of the diners within, and Tony set his jaw. “Can you make a force field around the restaurant in case this thing blows up?” 

“How is that even a question?” Loki hopped out of Tony’s arms when he flew low enough for him to do so. The sword in his hand returned to the shape of a staff. Loki waved it once, and lifted his free arm to hold the giant green bubble that surrounded the restaurant. 

As soon as the restaurant was protected, Tony fired another blast from the omni-beam, this time directly into the hole Loki had made in the back of the robot’s head. The robot staggered, but stayed on its path down the street. Ignoring warnings from J.A.R.V.I.S. about falling power levels, Tony charged another omni-beam, but before he could shoot it, there was another explosion, this time from the outside, rather than from within the robot. Tony dodged to one side as the robot’s head flew off of its body and bounced off of the force field Loki held. As it clattered to the sidewalk, the robot’s knees buckled and with a huge crash it fell to the ground, silent and still.

“You really know how to build them, Hammer,” Tony muttered as he flew up, avoiding most of the shrapnel. It was only once he was above the buildings that he saw the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicopter hovering above him. From behind the windshield, Maria Hill glared grimly at the debris below. Behind her, hanging out of the open door, was Phil Coulson, a rocket launcher on his shoulder. 

Tony dropped to the ground and flipped up the faceplate of his suit. Loki, no worse for wear, dropped the force field, and behind him Tony could see most of the diners, including Tokie-san herself, taking video of the wrecked robot with their cell phones. Tony sighed, lifting off his helmet. Underneath his hair was sweaty, but he managed a flashy smile as he waved at the diners recording him. 

From the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicopter above came Maria Hill’s voice, amplified by loudspeaker. “Tony Stark and Loki of Asgard, you are to report to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters immediately! This is not a request! If you do not report to Nick Fury within an hour, there will be consequences!” Ropes dropped from the helicopter and four S.H.I.E.L.D. agents slid down. As soon as their feet were on the ground they began putting up caution tape and gathering scraps of the robot. In the distance, police sirens wailed, growing closer by the minute. 

“Christ,” Tony murmured under his breath, shoving his helmet back on and closing the faceplate. Above him, the drones that had been recording the robot shot off into multiple directions, disappearing into the night sky. 

Loki tapped on the glass door with one knuckle, ignoring Maria’s demands. When Tokie-san opened the door, she ran out to hug him, squeezing him tightly enough to knock the wind out of him. “You saved my restaurant!” Tears of joy welled in her eyes as Loki gently patted her back. “I knew I was fortunate when you first arrived, but how could I have known you’d do so much for me?” Tears began rolling down her soft cheeks. Loki pulled a handkerchief from somewhere within his coat and offered it to her; she used it to demurely pat her away the tears. Inside the restaurant, dazed diners peered out of the windows while servers picked up fallen dishware. Tama-chan bolted out of the door and put her paws on Loki’s pant leg, clenching and unclenching her little white toes. 

“How can I ever repay you?” Tokie asked once she had regained her composure. “And you!” She pointed to Tony, who shook his head, smiling behind the mask. 

“No thanks are necessary. I’m just trying to do what’s right,” Tony replied. Loki rolled his eyes, though he still wore a small smile. 

“It was nothing. Honestly.” Loki said quietly as he extracted himself from her motherly grasp. “Don’t go ruining my reputation by telling people I did something heroic,” he teased. Behind the faceplate Tony smiled wider. Maybe Janet had it right when she said Loki was only bluffing most of the time. 

A news van peeled around the corner, much to the dismay of the S.H.I.E.L.D. officers, who began doubling their efforts to gather the remains of the fallen robot. 

Tony quickly realized that, with the news van blocking the exit to the street where the robot had entered, and police cars pulling in behind the helicopter, there was no hope of returning to the restaurant to finish their meal. 

“I’m starting to think I pissed someone off up there,” Tony said as Loki returned to his side. 

“In the helicopter? I should say so--oh, you mean a deity.” Loki offered a small shrug as an answer. “Always a possibility, although I’m not angry.” He cast a sidelong glance at Tony beside him. “However, I do wish I could  _ finish _ an outing with you.” 

Tony glanced up at the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicopter and Maria Hill’s grim face. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a ride back to campus, if you want it,” he added hastily, “and we’ll grab some cheeseburgers along the way. ” 

Loki heaved a dramatic sigh. “I suspect that Fury is waiting for another reason to reinstate my confinement, so against my better judgment, I will take you up on that offer.” He threw a reluctant arm around Tony’s shoulder. 

A small icon in the shape of a pulsing red heart lit up on Tony’s holographic head’s up display, indicating his heart rate. It wasn’t from Loki touching him, not when all he could feel through the suit was the slightest hint of his added weight, and it certainly wasn’t from the robot fight, which had been exhilarating, but not exceptional. It was seeing Loki beside him, and feeling the strangest sense of belonging from the arm around his shoulder and the profile at his side. Though there were still butterflies in his stomach, especially when Loki looked down at the mask, it felt as though his feet were finally on solid ground. Tony wrapped his arm tightly around Loki’s waist to keep him steady as they flew, and the little heart rate monitor stopped flashing, indicating his heart rate had returned to normal. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” Tony said as they lifted off the ground together. “It’s only fair, right? Cursed rings are your wheelhouse, but robots? That’s my thing, so this one’s on me.” 

“I will hold you to that, Anthony.” 

“Give me some more credit, Loki. I wouldn’t lie to you.” Despite himself, Loki chuckled, and behind the mask, Tony beamed. 


	5. Chapter 5

It was hot and cloudless on the day that Tony Stark’s private Quinjet disappeared from Avengers Academy. With final exams approaching, everyone was too busy to notice the absence of the jet or its owner. Autopilot lifted the sleek, silent craft into the air, holding only two passengers, and by the time administration realized it was gone, Tony and Loki were almost to their destination. 

In the cabin, Tony and Loki sat in opposite aisles in a comfortable quiet that was occasionally disrupted by updates from the autopilot or news alerts from Tony’s holo-screen. Tony, who had been scanning stock prices and technological announcements, was about to turn off the screen when a newly familiar face appeared--that of Tokie-san, the owner of Loki’s favorite restaurant. Tony turned up the volume, and with a gesture, tilted the holo-screen towards Loki.

_ “In local news, Manhattan Eatery ‘Tokie’s’ has topped the New York Times’ ‘Hot Eats in the City’ list! This small restaurant was launched out of obscurity when a giant robot was defeated on its doorstep by none other than Iron Man. With the news that Tony Stark is a frequent visitor, this family-owned restaurant has more business than the owner can handle!”  _

“I wouldn’t say that I’m a  _ frequent _ visitor,” Tony said. From the seat across the aisle, Loki shushed him. Though he had spent the majority of the ride paging through an enormous and seemingly ancient book, his gaze was now fixed on the screen. With a gesture, Tony blew up the screen so he could see it better. Loki shut the book but held his place with a finger.

_ “In an interview with Megan McLaren, the owner Tokie Takei owed her restaurant’s success to century-old family recipes and a little divine intervention.”  _

The image cut away from the newscaster in the studio to a scene in front of Tokie’s restaurant. While the damage from the giant robot had been minimal, there was an “under renovation” sign on the front window. Next to Megan, who had perfectly styled hair and a tailored business suit, Tokie looked radiant and stately. She wore a delicate shawl patterned with orchids, and her hair was held back with pretty combs. She smiled expectantly at the newswoman, and when Tony glanced over to Loki, he saw that he too was smiling. 

_ “Ms. Takei, three weeks ago, your restaurant was nearly destroyed by a giant robot--” _

“Nearly destroyed is exaggerating a bit,” Tony said with a snort. Loki shushed him again, louder this time.  

_ “--now you’re taking reservations for the first time in your restaurant’s forty-year history! Is it safe to say this newfound success is overwhelming?”  _ On the screen, Megan pointed her microphone down at Tokie.

_ “I have always been fortunate. I have a wonderful family, wonderful friends, and many wonderful guests. Because of these things, I have always been successful.”  _ Tokie’s face curved into a sly smile at Megan McLaren’s vacant confusion. Inside the plane, Loki chuckled. “ _ However, this is more attention than I expected. It seems we will have to expand soon.”  _

_ “Now that’s exciting!”  _ Megan flashed a wide, rehearsed smile at the camera, lingering a second too long before returning to her interview.  _ “Now, Mrs. Takei, is it true that Tony Stark was dining here when the robot attack happened?”  _

_ “There were many people dining here that night. I rarely have open seats on Friday nights, and if someone like Mr. Stark was there, I must not have noticed.”  _ This time Tokie’s smile was was sweet, grandmotherly, and Megan let her face fall into a small, disappointed frown before whipping around to the camera. 

_ “Well, you heard it here! Tokie’s Restaurant was not only saved by some of New York’s own superheroes, but might even have them for dinner sometimes--”  _

Loki flicked his fingers in a dismissive gesture and the holoscreen blinked out of existence, a small puff of green smoke dissipating quickly into the air. Mild annoyance colored his face as he reopened his book. 

“I thought you wanted to see that,” Tony said, tapping a few buttons on his watch, realizing with dismay that the holographic screen would not spring to life again. 

“Not if the reporter is going to be so obnoxious.” His gaze softened as he turned a page in his book. “I’m glad Tokie-san is doing well.” 

“Can I have my holoscreen back?” Tony pushed the buttons with more force, to no avail. 

“I thought you were taking me on a date, not watching the news.” A familiar coy smile crept across Loki’s lips as he cast his challenging gaze across the aisle. 

Tony’s mind moved fast, but there was something in the way that smile seemed before it slipped into a self-satisfied smirk that made witty comebacks die on his tongue. In truth, he’d been focusing on holoscreen to keep himself from staring at the unusual outfit Loki was wearing. Not that a short-sleeved, button-down shirt was a strange piece of clothing, but on Loki, who draped himself in heavy blacks, golds, and greens, a simple white cotton shirt was shocking. More than once during the flight, Tony had found his gaze absently wandering down the pale line of Loki’s neck to an exposed bit of his chest with the thought that Jan would probably want to know what Loki did to keep his skin so  _ pretty _ . It took a dive into the news to settle heartbeat quickened by black curls on a white collar, black nails on long-fingered, clever hands, and the promise of what waited for them when the Quinjet landed. 

Tony turned in his seat to face Loki, propping one elbow up on the armrest. “Let’s see,” he began, holding Loki’s gaze with confidence as he continued. “Today I whisked you out of Avengers Academy, a place you often complain about disliking...”

“True.”

“...chartered a flight to Palm Beach...”

“That’s where you  _ say _ we’re going.”

“...just so I could take you, and you alone, sailing. I think that sounds like a date to me. Besides, I could say the same thing about the book you’ve had your nose in for the whole flight.” 

Each interruption from Loki had come with a smile that extended from his coy lips to his eyes. Once Tony finished speaking, Loki wiggled his fingers and the holoscreen blinked to life over Tony’s watch. “Touché.”

Without looking at the screen, Tony turned it off. “You never told me how you ended up at Tokie’s the first time.”

“You never asked,” replied Loki as he placed the book back into the duffle bag next to his seat. “Do you know how long I’ve been in Midgard?” When Tony shook his head Loki continued. “One year, three months, and six days. That is a long time to be exiled from one’s home. Any amount of time is too long to be exiled,” Loki muttered as an afterthought. There was an angry edge in his voice that lingered in the set of his jaw. When he turned to look out the window, Tony could see the cords in his neck tense. “Two months after I was exiled, I stopped devoting all of my time to trying to find a way back. With the Bifrost closed and my other entrances unavailable, I knew there was no way I was getting back to Asgard for the time being.” 

Though Tony had no idea of why Loki had been exiled, it seemed prudent not to indulge his curiosity, at least not while they were in the air. “I remember when you joined the academy. You were pretty angry. You pretended not to be, but it showed.” 

“With as angry as I was, I’m sure it did.” 

A synthesized voice chimed from the overhead speakers. “We are now beginning our final descent. Local temperature is 86 degrees Fahrenheit. We hope you enjoy your stay in Palm Beach.”

“Perhaps this is a story to be finished on the open sea, hmm?” Loki suggested as “fasten seat belt” signs lit up on the overhead displays. 

“Works for me.” Tony stuck a stick of gum into his mouth as he turned back around in his seat, chewing until his ears popped and they were safely on the tarmac at the private Stark airfield.

 

* * *

 

For a yacht, especially one with STARK INDUSTRIES emblazoned on the side, the ship was rather unassuming. Though luxurious to look at from the dock, it was small and lacked personal touches like chrome and red paint that would have made it stand out as Tony’s. Instead, it was white, with a clean blue stripe running from the bow to the stern, underlining the logo and the name of the ship:  _ The Near Horizon.  _

“An odd name for a ship,” said Loki from where he stood next to Tony on the dock. The high sun above them glinted off of the tiny golden horns embedded into his sunhat. “The horizon is generally far.” 

“That’s not true,” said Tony. A dock attendant was quickly carrying boxes of catered food and chilled beverages onto the ship, his expression harried and nervous when he briefly met Tony’s eyes. Technically the ship should have been ready the moment the Quinjet touched down, but as Tony looked at the turquoise water and the cloudless sky, he couldn’t find a reason to be irritated. “The horizon is the future, and the future is always happening.” 

“The  _ present _ is happening,” Loki argued. He leaned on the dock railing, lifting one foot clad in a gold gladiator sandal to scratch the back of his calf through the black chiffon sarong. 

“And yet the future is only seconds away.” Tony’s face lit up as he spoke and he turned his attention from the yacht to Loki. “It’s about progress, about moving forward while seeing your goal.” 

“Did you name it?” Loki cast his gaze at him from under his hat, his eyes cutting from Tony’s sunglasses, down his polo shirt and shorts, to his boat shoes, and back up again. Tony got the feeling he had just been judged lacking in some way, but next to Loki, everyone looked like they needed to try harder. 

“My mother did. This was hers.” He looked back out at the ship, his mind flooded with overlapping memories of her at the wheel while he sat on the deck reading comics, or tinkering with something small he had brought with him. 

“I thought the aesthetic looked a bit muted.” 

Before Tony could respond, the dock attendant was in front of him, apologizing rapidly, citing difficulties with the catering company, with miscommunication between the staff, and the labor entailed in making sure a ship that had gone unused as long as this one was seaworthy. Tony gave him a hundred dollar bill from his pocket and reassured him twice that there was no problem. 

“Did your father also have a yacht?” asked Loki as they boarded together. Despite the dock attendant’s chagrin, the deck was perfectly appointed. There were two lounge chairs next to one another on the light wood deck at the bow, a cooler of drinks--all non-alcoholic--sat between them. 

“Oh yeah, but that one’s my cruise ship.” Tony flashed a grin as he made his way to the wheel. “Sit down and get comfortable,” he said, gesturing to the lounge chairs, “it’ll be a while until we’re in open water.” 

“I’m sure,” Loki said as he lowered himself into one of the chairs, stretching his arms behind his head and resting his head on them. The sun was hot, the breeze pleasant, and with Tony watching him, Loki drifted to sleep on the deck.    
  


* * *

 

“Thirsty?” 

Loki opened his eyes, squinted, and pulled his hat further down to shield his eyes from the sun. Next to him, Tony had stretched out onto the opposite chair, aviator sunglasses reflecting Loki’s sleepy gaze back at him. 

“Parched,” Loki said, looking him over again, from his sun-red cheeks to his ugly boat shoes, and trying not to smile. 

“Good, if you slept much longer I’d have to go below deck for ice.” Tony straightened himself up so he was sitting and plunged his hand into the open cooler, which Loki now realized was mostly water. “Sparkling water, sparkling grape juice, soda? We’ve got it all.” 

“Sparkling grape juice,” Loki said and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the chair. “How long was I sleeping?” 

Tony shrugged as he handed him the bottle. “I don’t know. Hour, hour and a half?” 

“Ha, well I’m a terrible date then, aren’t I?” Loki stood up, stiff, stretching his arms over his head and placing the cold bottle against his hot cheek. He crossed the deck to the railing where he leaned in silence until Tony joined him. 

“I mean, I’ve had worse. You haven’t thrown a single drink at me.” Tony grinned. Loki’s cheeks were red from the sun, and it gave the impression that he was blushing under the sunhat. “If the worst thing you’re going to do is get comfortable enough to sleep around me, well, I’ll count it as a net gain.” 

Loki only snorted.

“So you were telling me about the time you first ate at Tokie’s,” Tony said, leaning on the rail next to him. Clear, turquoise water lapped at the side of the ship as it floated aimlessly, the engine off. The dock was a speck on the horizon and around them, all was clear, radiant blue. Only a few wispy clouds floated above to break the illusion of being in a blue crystal ball. 

“I couldn’t stand being exiled, and I couldn’t stand the Academy. Full of...” Loki glanced at Tony from the corner of his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. 

“Humans?” 

“I suppose.” Loki opened the bottle and sipped from it. “I told myself I was leaving. That the Academy wasn’t good enough for me--it still isn’t--so I walked the streets of New York trying to decide what to do. The Bifrost was closed, I could not contact my mother, and as hard as I tried I could not break the boundaries through the realms, as I damn well ought to be able to.” 

Tony’s gaze hovered between the flash of teeth behind his pale lips and the tense cords of Loki’s neck as he spoke. Anger boiled deep beneath the surface there, only escaping in the smallest of signals, in the language of gritted teeth and an edge in the voice. Tony felt he was particularly adept at recognizing anger and had a hunch that Loki was too. 

“I’ve mentioned before how dull Asgardian food is, haven’t I?” Tony nodded. “So many stews. So many unseasoned vegetables.” Loki’s nose crinkled in disgust. “I was two blocks from the academy and I smelled something wonderful. Something unlike anything I’d ever smelled before.” Loki’s eyes were bright as he turned to Tony. “Curry.” 

“Curry? Not Japanese food?” 

“At this point in the story I’ve only been in Midgard for two weeks, do you want to hear it or not?” Tony mimed zipping his lips shut, then gestured for Loki to continue. “Thank you. Anyway. Curry. Coriander. Turmeric. Garam masala. Eleven or more spices for one dish. One dish!” Loki gestured wildly as if Tony was meant to understand his disbelief, nearly spilling the sparkling grape juice. “Do you know how many spices are in the average Asgardian dish?” 

“Less than eleven.” 

“One at best!” The familiar expression of disgust planted itself on Loki’s face. “And that is black pepper on meat. You’re lucky if they salt anything well enough.” Loki turned his gaze to the endless waves off the port side of the yacht. “I digress. The restaurant, House of Curries, was owned by a young Indian couple who had moved to New York because the husband had a job waiting for him on Wall Street. He was laid off almost immediately--downsizing, he said the term was--and decided to open a restaurant with his wife to try to make it in New York without Wall Street.” 

“They told you all of that?” 

“I can be quite charming,” Loki said, turning around so he was leaning his back against the railing, the wind at his back ruffling his hair, his green eyes almost blue from reflecting the water and sky. “I had never had food like that before. I came back for two weeks, trying everything on the menu. When I was ready to try something new, I went walking again.” 

“This is where you were when Fury was looking for you!” Memories of early days in the Academy jumped to the forefront of Tony’s mind. While he had been setting up the security network and Jan had been opening her clothing store, Fury was interrogating every student on Loki’s whereabouts, only for Loki to show up a day later, and take his punishment with a roll of his eyes. 

“Clever boy,” Loki said, a flash of teeth in his smile. “I found Tokie’s a few months in. As I said, she knew what I was immediately. Being in her restaurant felt like... felt better than home.” Loki’s voice grew wistful and soft. “She reminds me a bit of my mother.” 

The faraway look on Loki’s face, coupled with the gentleness in his voice, drew an unfamiliar yearning out of Tony’s chest. 

“I felt as though...” Loki then pushed away from the railing mid-sentence and returned to the lounge chair where he returned to his position, stretched out, ankles crossed. 

“Loki?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Sure as hell doesn’t sound like nothing.” Tony sat on his own chair, sideways, facing Loki’s facade of disinterest. “You already said she reminded you of your mother. You can’t just pretend I didn’t hear that.” 

“It doesn’t matter.” There was a hard edge in Loki’s voice, but Tony continued. 

“See, I think it does matter because I know what it’s like to have a shitty father and a mother I would have killed for.” Tony was surprised to feel tears well in his eyes. Thankful for the aviators, he blinked them away. “Mom took me sailing because it got us both away from Howard.” 

Loki raised a brow, just barely visible under his straw hat, and sat up to listen, his interest piqued. 

“I mean, she loved it, and he bought her the boat so there was that at least.” Once he began to talk, the words poured from his lips. “I don’t really know your dad, but mine would go on these three-day drinking benders. Empty out every bottle of scotch in the liquor cabinet then tell Jarvis to get him more.” 

“J.A.R.V.I.S.? Your AI?” 

Tony shook his head. “I named the AI after our butler. He helped mom raise me, basically. Anyway. When he got like that, she’d take me sailing for the weekend. I didn’t realize what she was doing then but...” Tony closed his eyes, feeling the boat swaying in the waves, the memories of a hundred sailing trips overlapping in his brain. “Shit. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” 

“I think you do, I do, at least,” Loki replied. With Tony’s eyes closed, he didn’t see the subtle transformation on Loki’s face. There was incongruous tenderness in the slight smile that played over his lips, then up to his eyes, where it met deep understanding and the barest flicker of unmistakable need. He reached out for Tony. 

With his eyes still closed, Tony jolted at the sensation of Loki’s hand brushing through his hair, thumb pressed to his temple as he cupped the back of his head. When he opened his eyes, Loki had shifted to sit on the side of his chair as well and had reached out his hand without drawing too near. 

“If I didn’t understand, then I wouldn’t have spent months eating at Tokie’s every night.” 

Tony thought Loki was going to kiss him, and the rabbit-thump of his heart was not just nervous but excited. He began leaning forward only to feel Loki’s hand withdraw. There was no change in expression on Loki’s face, so Tony sat back quickly, sheepishly. 

“The man at the dock said something about catering,” Loki said, after draining his bottle of juice. 

“Right!” Tony shot out of his chair and headed towards the stairs leading under the deck. “We can eat topside if you want, but it’s pretty nice down here too.” 

Below deck, the interior was classy but outdated. The countertops in the minute kitchen were avocado green, with accents of harvest gold and orange. The ceiling had a popcorn finish, and further in, past the kitchen, was a seating area with large, multicolored couches. 

“Interesting,” Loki said as he looked around, lifting a hand to touch the uneven paint on the ceiling. 

“It came like this,” Tony said as he opened the refrigerator in the kitchenette. “Never really thought about changing it since I don’t sail much anymore.” He pulled a tray of sliced fruit, and one of lobster rolls out of the fridge. “You like lobster?” 

“There are people who don’t?” Loki asked with an incredulous quirk of his brow. 

“So that’s a yes.” Tony placed both trays on the rectangle dining table that, flanked by cozy high-backed benches, made a two-person booth. 

They ate with their fingers in comfortable silence, the boat swaying with the waves that lapped the hull. The pleasant quiet made Tony realize how little of it he got at the Academy. Teaching hundreds of superpowered, super smart, and super young heroes led to a cacophony inside every building, and outside in the quad. His lab was an overlapping drone of heavy metal and machinery, while the rest of Stark Tower was likely to have stock updates, news updates, and general updates on anything related to Stark Industries. Here, when he closed his eyes, there was only the white noise of the waves and the gentle sway beneath his feet. 

“Anthony.” 

Tony focused his eyes; he had been staring into the middle distance, seeing nothing. 

“I was saying that I think this is the first meal we’ve managed to have together, uninterrupted.” The look on Loki’s face was playful, almost smug. 

“Ha! Don’t jinx it,” Tony said as he stood up from the booth, taking the empty plates back to the container left by the catering company. 

“You honestly think any superstition could compete with my magic?” 

“See, this is where everything starts to go wrong in movies. The overconfident heroes charging into danger without thinking about the consequences. Someone inevitably says ‘what could go wrong?’ and the audience groans.” 

Loki followed Tony back onto the deck. “This isn’t a movie.” 

“No, but it pays to be genre-aware.” When the sun hit him, Tony let out a puff of uncomfortable air at the heat. Without thinking, he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, tossing it onto his lounge chair. “So do you want to sail around for a while? There’s an uninhabited island or two nearby we could check out, or we could fish, I think there’s still some tackle downsta--” 

Loki was staring, the corner of his lips cocked into the smallest smile. Tony watched as his gaze froze on his arc reactor--as everyone’s did when he was shirtless. Tony looked away. There was something about how people looked at the arc reactor that made him feel sick to his stomach. He hadn’t even thought of it when he’d taken off his shirt. 

“So uh--” Tony licked his lips and looked back at Loki, trying to draw his attention away from his chest, when he realized his gaze hadn’t lingered. Loki’s eyes were on his stomach, where a line of thick hair remained as an indicator of how hairy his chest had been before the accident. 

Loki caught his gaze and Tony’s heart and stomach met in his chest, one leaping, the other dropping, both fluttering madly. 

“Anthony Stark’s heart,” Loki mused as he drew closer to him, lifting a hand. “May I?” 

There was no need to elaborate. “Yeah, go ahead if you want.” 

Loki pressed one immaculately manicured finger directly to the center of the arc reactor. There was no sensation--had been no sensation in that area of his chest since the explosion, but the rest of his body made up for it. As if the sun wasn’t hot enough, it felt as though a furnace had rumbled to life in his belly, the heat spurring the butterflies into angry pulsing. 

“Why do you...” Tony began, trailing off at the look on Loki’s face as he traced a circle around the edge of the reactor.

“Marvelous,” muttered Loki as he placed his entire hand on the reactor, covering most of it, though light bled out between his fingers. 

“What--oh!” 

Loki’s hand slid up from the reactor to his neck, to the back of his head, and this time Tony was ready. He stepped forward, bringing them close, and tilted his head up, suddenly all too aware of the height difference between them. 

A crack of thunder shook the air around them as the clear sky opened up, pouring a heavy sheet of icy rain onto the deck. 

Loki jolted away from Tony and looked at the sky with a snarl. Storm clouds were just now gathering, appearing out of the empty blue as if by magic. 

“If my brother has anything to do with this I will flay him alive!” Loki’s clothing immediately soaked through, the chiffon skirt clinging to his legs, the white shirt transparent, exposing a flat gold necklace, tight pink nipples, and an unexpected gold navel ring. 

Tony felt faint. 

Loki stomped to his lounge chair and grabbed his duffle bag. “If my book is ruined I will have him drawn and quartered...” he hissed. 

“I doubt your brother is involved, it’s just a freak storm,” Tony said after clearing his throat and looking up at the darkening sky. Lightning spread across the sky like spiderwebs, and not a second later, thunder cracked loud enough to hurt his ears. “Maybe you should get below deck. I gotta get us out of here.” 

Loki was already stomping down the stairs, cursing Thor the entire way. 

At the wheel, which was in a small area covered like a convertible car to keep rain away from the electronics, Tony banged his head against the wheel to a mental refrain of:  _ just kiss him, just kiss him, just kiss him, just kiss him... _ That refrain continued to the dock and onto the Quinjet where they sat next to one another in silence, wet and miserable. Loki had wrapped himself in towels before sitting down, giving the impression of a petulant child, but thankfully, for Tony’s twisting stomach, covering up the wet curls plastered to his neck and the rivulets of water trailing down into the collar of his sodden shirt. That thudding refrain, pounding with the beat of his heart, was eventually replaced by the familiar stream of thoughts about armor upgrades, research and development, and everything that wasn’t Loki’s perfect lips. 


	6. Chapter 6

The last six weeks of Tony’s life had been one witty title away from a Craigslist missed connections ad. Three times he missed a text from Loki, his phone either inaudible due to the cacophony of metal and music in his shop, or absently forgotten when his focus zeroed in on something interesting. By the time he got to the text, it was always too late to follow through on whatever Loki had suggested, the coffee shops closed for the night, the events having finished hours, if not days before. 

Twice, Tony sought out Loki for a quick lunch date, something casual, something to break the tension of furtive glances at Loki’s delicate, clever fingers tapping on the table or stroking the binding of a book when they were in class together. Both times Loki was unexpectedly preoccupied, once playing video games with Kamala, the other time, engaged in a heated debate with Jan over the styles on display at New York Fashion Week. 

Looking back, Tony counted nine missed opportunities to spend time with Loki, and in that equation learned two things. One was that he needed to pay more attention to his phone. In addition to the texts from Loki, he had missed thirty-four from Jan and one from Natasha. Though he was able to make it up to Janet easily enough, Natasha was using another burner phone, and by the time he texted her back, the number was disconnected. More importantly, however, was how much he regretted having missed those opportunities. 

With time to think came perspective. While he wasn’t privy to the love lives of everyone on campus, he could count on one hand the number of people he knew were straight for sure. He knew gender didn’t matter to Janet, and even Mr. So-American-I-was-born-on-the-fourth-of-July was dating a guy. A couple of guys. And Natasha. And that had never seemed strange, not in any way that mattered. Next was the realization--or at least maybe the admittance that--he really liked Loki. 

He had been in the workshop when it hit him. Soldering, even on something as small as a processor, was so simple that his mind always wandered. While trying to miniaturize the repulsor technology to the point where it could fit in a smaller, slimmer watch, he had set down the soldering iron and sat back in his chair. He hadn’t heard the hateful ghost of Howard Stark seething in the back of his mind for months. And it wasn’t as though he had stopped thinking about Loki, because he wasn’t just thinking about him, he was  _ fantasizing _ about him. He kept reliving that moment when the rain had come down in a sheet, soaking them in an instant, about how he could have--should have grabbed him and kissed him. To say Tony’s imagination was good would be a tragic understatement--it took more than “good” to come up with the Iron Man suit--and every time he replayed that moment on the yacht he felt every raindrop, every ounce of pressure left by Loki’s fingertips, and everything that could have been. He’d beaten self-doubt and internalized homophobia--for the moment, at least--and won the courage to do what he’d wanted to do the entire time.  
  


* * *

 

“J.A.R.V.I.S. I want you to mute all notifications.  _ All of them _ . The only time I want to hear from you is if the tower is burning down and the sprinkler system can’t handle it.” Tony spoke to the AI as he walked down the hallway from the master bathroom to the kitchen. 

“Understood Sir.” 

“Let me see your hologram one more time,” Tony said, chewing his lower lip as he looked at the bags of food just dropped off by the delivery service. The air next to hima shimmered, like waves of heat on summer asphalt, and the wireframe figure of a man in a suit appeared. 

“Am I still to your liking, Sir, or will you require a few more viewings before your date arrives?” 

“It would take weeks of modeling to get you to look how I really want, but I guess this will have to do in a pinch.” 

“Perhaps you would like me to help you pick out a tie.” The head of the wireframe figure tilted downwards in an overly exaggerated motion, nodding at the bright floral tie Tony was currently wearing. Tony felt his cheeks start to flush. 

“Okay. Okay. Listen.” Tony loosened the knot on his tie to pull it off.  He’d agonized over his outfit, over what was too casual and what was too formal, and had settled on nice slacks and a blue button-down with a tie. “Why don’t you just order me some new ties if my sense of fashion is so terrible.” He unbuttoned the top two buttons and smoothed out the shirt, throwing the tie onto the kitchen counter. 

“I’ve been offering to do so for a year, Sir.” There was the barest hint of smug satisfaction in the AI’s synthesized voice. Tony narrowed his eyes at the hologram. 

“I swear I’m going to reprogram you one of these days.” 

“You do keep saying that, Sir, but I am operating within the exact parameters you designed for me.” 

“Just lead Loki to the roof when he gets here.” 

“But of course, Sir.” J.A.R.V.I.S.’ wireframe avatar gave a deep bow, which Tony ignored as he grabbed the bags of food from the counter and headed to the elevator. 

* * *

 

It was cool on the roof, but not so much so that it was uncomfortable. If it had been, the tall metal lamps had heating coils built into them, and the top of Stark Tower would have felt as balmy as a nice spring day. The blanket spread out between the lamps was red and white, the quintessential gingham picnic blanket, and all the better. It just made sense to lean into the kitsch and drop the pretension. It was a picnic on the roof, not dinner at the Waldorf Astoria. But there were proper plates, not paper, and crystal tumblers for sparkling water, and from the top of Stark Tower, the view was better than anywhere else in the Academy.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang, and J.A.R.V.I.S. waited the programmed fifty seconds before opening the door. “Good evening, Mr. Odinson. Master Stark has instructed me to lead you to the elevator, as you shall be dining with him on the roof tonight.” 

“My father is a king,” Loki said. His expression had been neutral when J.A.R.V.I.S. opened the door, but soured immediately at the word “Odinson”. “Surely the correct address would be Prince.” 

“Of course, your highness.” 

Loki grinned. “Much better. Moving up in the world, are we J.A.R.V.I.S.? You’re nearly a real boy.” 

“Not going to call me Jarface this time, are you, your highness?” 

“Not when there’s nobody else around to hear it.” Loki’s grin remained as he followed J.A.R.V.I.S. into the tower. “Now, normally I’d hand this off to the help but I suppose that won’t do.” Loki lifted the bottle in his right hand. It was made of jade colored glass, etched with a delicate, beautiful snake winding around the neck. 

“Unless you were hoping to see it shatter on the floor, I wouldn’t recommend it.” J.A.R.V.I.S. inclined his hologram head towards him. “But seeing as I won’t be cleaning it up, you may do whatever you wish.”

“You know, I rather like you.” Loki said as he followed him through the foyer and down a long hall. “Tell me... how often does Anthony talk about me?” 

“I’m afraid that’s a question that will have to wait for another day.” The holographic figure stopped in front of a large elevator with glass walls, a cylinder connecting every floor with the main structure. The doors slid open. 

“You’re not going to give me anything, are you?” Loki asked as he stepped into the elevator. 

“The only answer you need is on the roof,” J.A.R.V.I.S. said, and as the elevator doors closed, the roof button already lit up, the hologram winked out of existence and all communication with Stark Tower was blocked.   
  


* * *

 

On the roof, Tony surveyed the picnic. Large dishes of curry, dal, and paneer were arranged in a circle, flanked by naan and samosas. Since he couldn’t be sure what was in Loki’s first meal at House of Curries, he had ordered as much as he thought they could possibly eat, and extra naan for good measure. As he debated turning on the heat lamps despite the mild weather, he heard the elevator doors slide open behind him. He spun, and completely lost his breath. 

Loki wore a black sweater, a little too big, the long line of his pale neck and collarbone bare to the night sky. He still wore the flat gold necklace, a piece that Tony had decided was more magical than decorative, as the same design was mirrored in his usual outfit. Under the sweater he had dark green leggings, just a shade more colorful than black. As ever, green, gold, and black. He barely noticed the bottle because as Loki drew near he watched Loki’s gaze turn to the picnic blanket and food, eyes growing wider by an almost imperceptible measure. Almost. 

He had surprised him, caught him completely off-guard, and it was exhilarating. 

Tony caught his breath and strode up to meet Loki halfway between the picnic and the elevator. He was a little overdressed, he realized now, but for once he didn’t feel completely outclassed by Loki’s fashion sense, and somehow that helped with the shreds of uncertainty still floating in the back of his mind. 

“Glad you could make it. You didn’t see any giant robots on your way, I hope?” 

“I’m Asgardian and even I know the concept of a jinx.” Loki offered Tony the bottle. “Also Asgardian, warm, bubbly, and not alcoholic. I gave another bottle to Jan to make sure.” 

“Well I hope it goes with Indian food,” Tony said, too touched that Loki had gone through the trouble to say anything more. 

“This isn’t your style at all. All substance and no flash. I’m almost impressed.” The smile on Loki’s face was sly, but was belied by something like an unexpected tenderness in his eyes. “You could have just taken me to an Indian restaurant.” 

“After what happened at Tokie’s?” Tony shook his head. “I’m not leaving the academy grounds with you until I can be sure one of us isn’t cursed.”

“I do have a thing for cursed treasure,” Loki mused, giving Tony a deliberate look before walking to the guardrail and leaning on it. He looked out over the New York skyline silently, head cocked slightly to the side as though thinking about something. “It’s a beautiful view.” Tony hovered between Loki and the food, not wanting it to get cold, before joining him at the railing. Below them, the city stretched out like a glittering map, a topography of skyscrapers and traffic jams. 

“What’s New York like for you?” Tony asked. “I mean, I’ve lived here since I was adopted, but you haven't even been here for two years,” he continued when Loki turned, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What’s it like compared to Asgard?” 

“Ha!” Loki pushed himself off of the railing and offered Tony the bottle. “I grew up in a palace, Anthony. Nothing can compare to that.” 

“But...?” 

“But I suppose it’s not as bad as it could be,” Loki said begrudgingly. “My father isn’t here. I rarely see my oaf of a brother, and there’s the food.” He gestured to the picnic and moved to follow Tony as he led him there. The sound of a police siren pierced the night and Loki wrinkled his nose. “Well, there is that though.” 

Tony lowered himself onto one of the cushions around the gingham blanket, placing the bottle next to the glasses and sparkling water. “Well, I tried for peace and quiet, but even I can’t stop the NYPD.” 

“It’s an easy fix,” Loki said, and it was Tony’s turn to look at him in confusion. “If I may.” Loki lifted his hand over his head and a green bubble, like the one he had used to shield Tokie’s from the robot emerged from it, encircling first him, then the two of them, and then the entire platform they sat on. When Loki lowered his hand the bubble was gone, and it was silent. 

“That’s a handy trick,” Tony said, not able to hide the admiration in his voice and not sure he wanted to when Loki dropped to the cushions with supernatural grace. Tony looked up at the hazy night sky. “It’s just a pity there’s so much light pollution or we’d have a view to go with the sound.” 

Loki rolled his eyes, smirked, and the sky was lit with stars. In an instant Tony was hit with the unanticipated memory of nights with his mother on the yacht, days away from shore, where there was no light to block the stars. He would lay on the deck, sometimes next to her, tracing constellations. His chest felt tight at the memory. Sometimes it astounded him how much he really missed her, and how something as small as seeing the stars overhead could make him think of her. He cleared his throat and pushed it down. Thoughts for a time when he wouldn’t look down from the sky to see Loki’s self-satisfied grin. 

“You didn’t just turn out all the lights in New York, did you?”

“Nothing so nefarious. I could, but I don’t want to spend another two weeks rotting in my dorm room while Nick Fury decides what is to be done about poor, troublesome Loki.” There was more mirth in his voice than malice, and Tony took that as a good sign. 

“You can start eating if you want,” he said as he picked up the bottle Loki had brought with him. It was somewhat warm to the touch despite the chill in the air, and Tony followed the snake from the neck where it’s nose touched the cork, to the base, where it wrapped around a fruit he didn’t recognize. “Should this be served with ice?” he asked, gesturing to the bucket next to the bottle of sparkling water. 

Loki looked up from the samosa he had plucked off of its plate. “It’s best a little warm,” he replied, before eating half of in one bite and sitting back on his cushion. 

“Warm it is,” Tony said, and poured them both a glass. He took a sip as he watched Loki’s eyes dart from plate to plate, wondering if anyone else on campus knew that Loki’s favorite thing about earth was a good meal, no matter how much it cost to make, or knew about the Andvaranaut and what Loki had gone through to get it back. It was so easy to look at Loki and see nothing but the sarcasm and pretension, but how many people  _ knew _ him? 

“Anthony?” 

Tony snapped his gaze away from the middle distance with a small questioning noise. 

“I said your name three times before you heard me. If I’m that boring then I do wonder why you keep inviting me out.” 

“No, sorry, I was just thinking about something you said earlier.” Tony absently served himself a plate, having realized that three pieces of naan and a sizable portion of curry had already disappeared. “I asked you how you liked New York and you brought up the food and your family.” 

“Yes. What are you getting at?” Loki asked with the raise of one brow, either suspicious or eager to get back to his meal or both--Tony couldn’t tell.

“You miss Asgard because it’s your home, but you never talk about missing anyone there.” Tony sat the glass next to him on the gingham. “I don’t know what your life was like there, but you do have friends here.” 

Loki let out a sharp bark of a laugh. “Have I stumbled into an after school special? Or were you hoping I would have listed you as one of the reasons Midgard isn’t all that bad?” 

“I’m not fishing for compliments,” Tony said, though Loki’s smirking gaze made him feel his ears start to heat up. He  _ hadn’t _ thought about that, but now that he did, it did feel like exactly what he wanted to hear. “I’m just trying to understand you.” 

“I am un-understandable,” said Loki with a dramatic shrug.“I contradict myself. I contain multitudes. I hate Midgard yet I  _ really _ do enjoy watching you stare from three seats away when you’re pretending to read your chemistry book.” 

“And you deflect when people are trying to have serious conversations with you.” 

“A tactic with which you are intimately acquainted.” Loki held out his glass in a mock toast before putting it to his lips. 

“Well, you’ve got me there,” Tony said with a low chuckle and shook his head, looking down at his hands and the napkin he was worrying between them. “Maybe that’s why I like you.” He lifted his head and looked Loki in the eye. There it was. It had taken almost 9 months to say what he’d known and been struggling to accept since Loki first asked him to dance. And when it was said, it simultaneously felt like nothing and everything. 

For the second time that evening, Loki was taken off-guard. 

Before thinking it through, Tony scooted to the cushion closer to Loki, lightly touched his cheek, and kissed him gently. 

Whatever shred of doubt had remained in Tony’s mind disappeared when their lips touched. Loki was surprised enough that for a bare second, he still when Tony touched him, and that was just long enough for Tony to realize what an idiot he’d been for thinking kissing Loki would feel any different than kissing a girl did. Well. It  _ did _ feel different, but not for the reason he thought it would. It wasn’t that it felt strange, it was that it felt  _ right. _

Tony pulled himself back from Loki, who, while still surprised, was smiling softly. “Okay, I probably should have waited until after we a--” Loki’s hand was strong on the back of his head as he yanked him close again. 

“I have  _ been _ waiting,” was all Loki said before kissing him again, hard, his lips parted, his other hand gripping a fistful of Tony’s dress shirt. Tony forgot the food, forgot the skyline and the stars, forgot J.A.R.V.I.S. monitoring the tower below, and for an instant there was nothing but the sensation of Loki’s lips and tongue. Every time he had imagined this, fantasized about this, he had never anticipated Loki would be so  _ hungry _ . His heart was pounding so hard he could feel his pulse in his ears, and when he pulled away this time it was because he couldn’t draw enough breath through his nose to keep up with it. 

Loki’s veneer of self-satisfied detachment had chipped away enough that when Tony met his eyes this time he almost looked like a different person. The sliver of vulnerability visible in those eyes left Tony speechless. Tony licked his lips, searching for something to say, something clever, when Loki’s eyelids fluttered shut and he felt a sigh like a shudder against his cheek. The most clever thing on the roof was now yanking him closer, pressing lips to his cheek, then his ear, then, with a huff and a low noise that was nearly a growl, pulling Tony down on top of him. 

Two thoughts crossed Tony’s mind at the same time. The first was that if he wasn’t careful, he was going to kick the plates and ruin dinner. The second was how little that mattered, given that his appetite for food had completely vanished. Loki had taken him both off guard and off balance, and despite trying to hold himself up by an elbow and a knee, he sunk down onto Loki, dizzy from the warmth of his body and the scent of his cologne. He was thankful that he hadn’t needed to turn on the heating lamps because underneath him Loki was a wildfire. The hand Loki’d had on his neck was now on the small of his back, his fingertips hard points of pressure holding him fast when he tried to prop himself up again. 

So he didn’t try. Under the stars and on top of Loki, he didn't  _ have  _ to try anymore. 


End file.
